The Homecoming
by navycorpsman
Summary: What was life like for Ciara Byrne, Tariq's best friend, at home, waiting for him to return? What happens when they discover they both have fallen in love with each other?
1. The First Letter

I re-read the letter I had just received in the mail.

_Sorry my writing is bad. I lost a fingernail working on a dozier. My hand is a little sore._

_Thanks for the notebook. I got it today. I read cover to cover in 4 days. I couldn't put it down! I'm glad so many seem behind us. As Soldiers, we do as we are told, but I do believe in why we are here. You would have to see how these people live. There seems to be no personal or patriotic pride. We moved yesterday and on the convoy, we passed people living in a trash dump._

_We were living outside of Kaniki and now we are across the river from Tikrit. The U.S. had turned Saddam's biggest palace into a base . Every night it gets mortared and the gates are attacked. They just shot down a helo and killed Soldiers going on R&R. My battle group has been moved in to draw fire and flush out the gorrillas. Last night was our turn. Our battle group dropped 155mm Howitzer rounds on them from 2230-0200. The guns firing was like a thunderstorm (I slept like a baby!)_

I found myself battling emotions. I was relieved Tariq was okay, but angry that he waited a month before mailing the letter. I knew of the loss of the Soldiers on their way for R&R, and hoped that Tariq had just missed out. I was sad for the families, but relieved it wasn't my loved one on the Chinook that was shot down.

"Ciara, you okay?" My dad's voice startled me.

"I'm fine, Popola. I was just reading a letter from Tariq." I wiped some tears from my eyes.

"He okay?" Poppa's voice was concerned.

"Yeah. He wasn't on that transport, thank God." I faced my poppa. "Still, they are using his battle group to flush out the guerillas. That can't be good, can it?"

"He'll be fine." Poppa consoled. "He's got some good men looking after him, right?"

"Yeah. He speaks highly of them, especially his Staff Sergeant." I sat on the couch.

Poppa sat next to me. "When's he due home?"

I shrugged. "Don't know. There's rumors of April, but that can change in the blink of an eye." Even April seemed so far away on that December morning. Tariq and I had been friends for as long as we could remember. Despite the religious differences, our families were close. Tariq was raised in a Muslim house and I was raised in a Baptist house. Yet, our families were forever doing things together.

I developed a crush on Tariq when we were freshmen in High School. Until then, he was always my best friend, but when we entered High School, something changed in me. He was not just my best friend; he was my "Dawson". In fact, he always called me "Joey". He never admitted to anyone that he was a closet DAWSON'S CREEK fan. Of course, unlike "Dawson" and "Joey", we never even got to the plate. Too many girls were vying for Tariq's affection and I, being his best friend would listen in agony as he would tell me what this girl did or that girl did. I hated that he never saw me as more than a friend.

I sighed and went to my room and looked at his basic training picture. How proud our families were that he made the patriotic decision to join the Army. He decided to join after the towers fell, but didn't leave until after his parents were okay. I remembered how angry he got when he heard they'd been beat up because they were Muslim. I hated seeing Tariq upset and his letters spoke often of how he was upset over this or that because of this new lieutenant they had.

"Ciara?" My mom slowly opened the door.

"Yes, Momma?" I placed Tariq's picture down.

"Phone call."

"Thanks, Momma. Who is it?" But Momma closed the door before she replied.


	2. The Call And The Question

I picked up the extension in the spare room. "Hello?"

"Hey, Joey!"

I recognized the voice. "Hey, Dawson. How are you?"

"Pretty good. Things go from bad to worse here, but I'm holding out okay. I sent you a package for Christmas." His voice seemed a little excited. "I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will. We'll be sending your next package out on Friday. I'm getting you one last gift and I don't get paid until Tuesday and I'll pick it up then." I knew Tariq didn't celebrate Christmas, but wanted to send him a gift anyway.

"I'll look for it. By the way, the guys enjoyed the party in a box you sent." I could hear his laugh.

"Well, what do you expect for your birthday? We've celebrated it together most of our lives and I may be here in Detroit and you may be in Iraq, but there's no reason you couldn't have a party, right?" I hoped he didn't hear the giddy in my voice. Our conversations were dull and boring by comparison, but I didn't care. I loved to hear his voice.

"Sergeant Silas thanks you for the cookies." He paused. "Joey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Dawson." My heart skipped a beat.

"Will you wait for me?" I was perplexed by his question.

"Of course. You're my best friend, Tar..."

"No, I mean it. Will you wait for me?"

I wondered what he meant, but replied "Of course I'll wait for you, Tariq."

"I've got to go. Others are waiting for the phone. I just really needed to talk to you. I miss you."

I smiled. "I miss you too. Now be safe and come home soon."

"I promise. Bye."

"Bye." I waited until he hung up before I did. I wondered what he sent and what he meant by waiting for him.

* * *

I was sitting up at my computer a couple days later when I saw an email from Tariq. I squealed with delight as I opened. I was rather shocked by what he wrote.

_My sweet little Joey, Things sound like they're dong well with you. Things are good out here. I'm going out on another sniper mission soon with the squarrel guys. The local food isn't bad, but it's too greasy and the fact you just watched the food walk in that day doesn't really help that much either._

_I can not say what I feel about you right now. Right now, I just want to come home and pick you up in my arms and kiss you. I just can't seem to stop thinking about you. Maybe this war...maybe being this far from you has made me realise something I didn't before I left. Wait for me, Joey._

_Dawson_

I stared at my screen. Was Tariq actually saying he felt for me what I felt for him? I never got over my crush on him and refused to date. There had always been this feeling I had to never let go of Tariq. For whatever reason, I never really let go of what I was feeling towards him.

The only problem I foresaw was the difference of religion. But could I, would I, let that come between me and the man I knew I loved?

"Cici!" My mom yelled upstairs. "We're waiting on you!"

"I'll be down in a minute, Momma!" I hit 'reply' to Tariq's email. _Hey Dawson! Glad to hear all is well. It hasn't been easy on this end worrying about you, but that just goes along with the territory of being your friend, doesn't it? But, I am, Tariq, so glad you're alright._

_I can only imagine how tired you must be. I lose one night of sleep and I can't function. There is no way I can imagine 2 days without sleep. You're a much better man than me. Haha_

_Got a really bad rainstorm this way the other night. It was so bad the house shook and woke us up around midnight. There was flooding in spots, but the important thing is no one got hurt._

_I hope you have your Worry Stone with you on these missions. Wink wink. It's there for protection too._

_I hope to feel the soft tender kisses and warm hugs from a certain Soldier...SOON!_

_Well, when you come home, I promise to take you to all the "All-American" fast food joints you want, what do you say? Sorry to hear that the food isn't as good over there as it is here._

_Let's see...what else? Oh, yeah...we got the package sent out and that picture I told you about a while ago. Hope you like it. I don't. My ass looks a lot bigger than it really is. We're spending Christmas at my grandparents cabin, and you know the fireplace there. What is it, Tariq, about fireplaces and snow that begs of romance?_

_You're with me always. I hope you know that. I have the one picture you sent of you at the Prison...you know, the one with your cheeky grin...everyone thinks you're a cutie._

_So, when are you due home...really? April? May? It's not long to go (only 4-5 months!) but it seems so far away._

_Anyhow, I have written you a novel, so I'm going to close for now. Promise to take care and be safe. You have Joey up in Detroit waiting for you...those hugs...your laugh. Please don't ever forget it._

_Always from the homefront...Cici_


	3. The Gifts

I made my way downstairs and grabbed my suitcase. Somehow, this year, I didn't really feel like celebrating Christmas. As Poppa finished loading the trunk, the postman drove up and handed my poppa a box. "Well, munchkin, looks like it's for you. Do you know a PFC Tariq Nassiri?" He joked.

I dropped my suitcase and ran over and jerked it out of Poppa's hands. "He told me he sent this a couple days ago!" I wanted to rip into it and see what he sent me.

"Look, Momma." Poppa laughed. "CiCi can hardly wait to see what Tariq sent!" The family laughed. "Let's go!"

As we got into the car, Yusef and Yasmina Nassiri ran out of their house. "Wait!" Yusef waved.

"You know we've always got time for you, Yusef." Poppa hugged his dear friend.

Yasmina hugged me. "We got a call from Tariq. He told us everything." She gave me a small box. "I want you to have this. You are a part of our family always." She kissed my cheek.

I was lost as to what Tariq could have said to his parents that would make them respond as they were. _Oh my goodness! When he said for me to wait for him, was he asking me in so many words to marry him? Why else would his parents be saying the things they are?_ I knew not to say anything regarding this, so I hugged Yasmina back. "And you are always part of my family."

"I know we don't celebrate it, but for you we say Merry Christmas!" Yusef smiled. It was easy to see where Tariq got his looks and personality from. He looked just like his dad, even down to the way they walked. It was often easy to confuse the two if they were standing side by side with their backs to you. Yusef gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Always you are part of our family."

I was now completely lost, but didn't want to let on. I began wondering if Tariq had sought his parents' permission to date me _That makes more sense than marriage, CiCi._ I told myself. _After all, you and Tariq haven't exactly been a couple._ I got in the car and as we waved good bye to the Nassiri's, I wondered what Tariq truly meant by "Wait for me" and how he wanted nothing more than to kiss me.

"You going to see what Riqy sent you?" My brother leaned over.

"Hang on." I adjusted myself and opened the package. There was a photo of him with the men of his small arms fire team. I handed it up to my mom. "That's Tariq's team."

"Oh my. So young and so handsome." She looked at Poppa. "I remember when you were that young and handsome. Now, you're just handsome."

Poppa's eyes beamed. "Well, I may be old, but I still got it!"

"POPPA!" My brother and I both exclaimed. We laughed and shivered at the thought of our parents having sex.

"What else is in the box, CiCi?" Poppa asked.

"Let's see." I picked up a small box and gasped.

"What is it?" Momma turned around.

"It's a necklace." I choked. "This is nothing he got in Iraq, I almost guarantee it." I held the necklace up and looked at it. "Momma, look at it! It's beautiful!"

Momma looked at it. "That boy loves you, CiCi. Make no mistake of it."

I scoffed. "He only loves me as his best friend."

Momma turned and looked at me. "No man buys a present like this for his best friend." Momma was Italian and her Italian nature was coming out. "He loves you. He has loved you for a long time."

"Then why didn't he say anything?" I argued back.

"Why didn't you?" Momma challenged. "Both of you are pig headed and too shy with feelings to let the other know. You got into this comfort zone of best friend that neither one of you saw what was in front of you. Religious differences can be worked out, but you'll never find someone who loves you as much as Riqy does. You can go to the grave with that assurance."

I smiled at Momma, hoping she was right about Tariq. I opened up the envelope on the bottom. "There's a letter."

"Read it out loud!" Poppa said.

"Okay. Tariq says _Ciara, How are you doing? Fine here. Just got back from a 4-day mission and saw all your letters on my rack and I couldn't get to them fast enough. Tell your family hi for me! Today's pretty slow...I FINALLY get to write a letter._

_I got your card with the Gaelic writing on it. It's actually at the main base right now. Merry Christmas to you too! Right now, it looks as though we might be home on Valentine's Day. But what does it matter? I have no one to share it with, do I?_

_Private Dumphy says hi and Merry Christmas to you too!_

_We've all been busy with missions. So, sorry I've not written in a while. You have no idea how much I miss your silly letters. I re-read all the other letters you've sent so that I have a smile and good thoughts before bed or missions._

_Well, it's time to go on another patrol through the city, throwing candy at the kids._

_Take care, stay warm, and I hope all your wishes come true and that you'll get what you want for Christmas this year and have a happy new year._" I held back the tears. All I wanted for Christmas was in Iraq for the holiday.

Momma reached back and patted my knee. "He'll be home safe soon, I promise you."

I could only hope she was right.

"So, what did Yasmina give you?" Poppa asked.

I shrugged. "Don't know. Haven't opened it yet." I dug the small box out of my coat pocket and opened it. "POPPA! MOMMA!" I gasped. "It's her grandmother's ring!"

Momma turned around and faced me. "That ring means a lot to her so for her to give it to you, you must be really special."

I wasn't sure what to say. I was confused about what happened just the past week alone. Tariq asking me to wait for him; the necklace he sent wasn't from Iraq. It was an expensive gift, but what was its purpose, if there was one? Why would his mother give me her grandmother's ring, knowing how much it meant to her? I just stared out the window and tried to take it all in.

The snow was falling heavier as we pulled in to the drive of my grandparents' cabin. Gramma was on the front porch, waving us all in. "I've got gingerbread men baking!" She yelled.

We made our way through the snow, lugging gifts for what seemed like at least a thousand people. "Hello, Grammy!" I kissed her cheek and made my way into the warmth of the cabin. I took off my coat and Gramma saw the necklace.

"Oh, my! But that is a beautiful necklace!" She gasped as she gingerly fingered it. "Who gave it to you?"

"Riqy."

"Oh, he was always sweet on you." She said.

"Gramma, if only..." I started

"If only, pooh." She snorted. "If I told you all the time that boy made googly eyes at you, you'd kick yourself in the head for being just like your father, too blind to see it."

"Mam!" Dad smiled. "You know as well as I do that sometimes we Irish have to be jumped kicked."

"Aye, don't I know it? How many times did I have to chase your Father down the streets before he finally got a clue I was interested?" Gramma's blue Irish eyes were dancing. I never got tired of hearing her tell the tale of how she and Grappa met while crossing the Ha'Penny Bridge in Dublin. They moved out to Detroit when my dad was starting high school, so the Irish accents ran heavy in the house.

Momma's family, aside from her parents, were still in Sicily, where Grappa Scalzitti was born. He had come over as a young man to find a better life for him and his new bride a year after they married.

So, everyday was a virtual mix of different cultures coming together to make memories. Even more so when Tariq's family moved in next door four years before we were born.

* * *

I sat in front of the fire place, staring into it. My Grappa sat next to me. "A penny for your thoughts."

"I had someone tell me one time if you look long enough into a fire, you'll see your past, your present, and your future." I kept my eyes on the flames.

"Why do you want to see your past and present? Can't change either. You can only change your future." Grappa softly said.

"Are Irish men always this wise, Grappy?" I smiled.

"Only those of us blessed enough to be born in Swords." He held the necklace in his hands. "Tariq spent some money on this."

"I know. Here I spent a few piddly dollars on a DVD he wanted and..."

"He doesn't expect you to spend this on him. He's old fashioned, mo cara. He wanted that DVD and that's what he expects from you, if not your heart." Grappa smoothed my hair.

I faced my grandfather. "He called me a couple days ago, and he asked me to wait for him."

Grappa's eyes lit up. "There, now, did he?"

"Yes, he did." I smiled.

"You intend to?"

"If I understood truly what it meant." I looked back at the fire. "I told him I would, though."

"You'd be wise to do so." Grappa kissed my forehead. "If two people are ever destined to be together, it's you and Riqy."


	4. The Confessions

I crawled into bed that evening, playing with the necklace Tariq sent. It sent me back to our youths and when I can first remember him. When we started speaking, neither one of us could pronounce the other's name, so the nicknames CiCi and Riqy were born. There are times we still call each other by those old nicknames. Our families do.

My first memory of Tariq is at his fourth birthday party. He was crying because he didn't get the HE-MAN toy he wanted. He gets embarrassed when we speak of it. Like DAWSON'S CREEK, he doesn't admit to being a HE-MAN fan when he was a kid. What I remember about that day is how we held hands a lot during the party and it was obvious we were best friends.

I then thought of grade school and how Tariq was a hit with the young ladies. Through it all, he remained my best friend. As we approached High School, he grew up a little and by the time we graduated, I realised that I didn't want anyone other than Tariq. As I played with the necklace, I prayed he'd be kept safe and come home to me; to our families.

I was lost in sleep when I heard my cell phone ringing. I silently cursed as I reached for it. "Hello?" I answered sleepily.

"Merry Christmas, Joey."

"Tariq!" I gasped.

"I know it's way too early there...but this was the only shot I'd have to call you. Everyone wants to call home today and I know how much Christmas means to you and I..."

"I'm glad to hear your voice." I wiped a tear from my eye.

"You okay?" His voice became concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just had a nightmare." I whispered.

"What about?"

"You."

"Me?" He sounded more than surprised.

"Yeah. I dreamt that you were ambushed." I tried to hold the tears back. "It was so real, Riqy, that it's..."

"We did get ambushed."

"RIQY!" I yelled, forgetting the time and where I was.

"Don't worry. The only thing hurt was the truck. Smoke got a scratch on his forearm, but that's the extent of injuries. We're all okay."

I sighed. "Why did I dream it?"

"I don't know, CiCi. I really don't know. I'm sorry for waking you up, but getting phone time here is getting tough."

"Tariq, don't EVER worry about waking me up. You're important to me and I'm here for you always, whether you're over there or over here." I brushed my hair off my face.

"I know. I've gotta go now. I love you."

"You too."

"Enjoy your holiday with your family."

"I will. You just come home safe."

"I will. I promise you. I will come home to you."

I wanted for him to hang up. _Did he tell me he loved me? How did he mean it? Should I have told him that I loved him too?_ I pulled the pillow over my eyes and hope that I didn't screw anything up.

I laid in bed for what seemed like forever before I smelled the bacon and eggs. I wearily crawled out of bed and saw Grappa in the kitchen. "Morning, Grappy." I smiled as best as I could.

"Tariq called you, didn't he?" Grappa never turned his attention from the bacon, but I knew he was smiling.

"Yeah, why?" I hopped up on the counter.

"The whole house heard ye yell 'RIQY!'" Grappa laughed. "Fortunately for us, we were all able to fall asleep again." He looked at me. "But, by the looks of ye, doesn't look like you were able to."

"He told me he loved me."

Grappa smiled at me. "Next time listen to your family. We've been tellin' ye for years that boy loves you."

"But always as a best friend." I quietly argued back.

"Best friend me arse." Grappa turned the bacon over. "He asked many a time why you never looked in his direction. Boy's been in love with you for as long as he could walk."

"But, why does he tell me now?" I whimpered.

"War will do that. Maybe he feels if he doesn't tell you now, he may never get the shot and, God forbid, he die over there, he'll die knowing that he told you. Now, did you tell him that you loved him?"

"No. I wasn't sure..."

"CIARA MAIREAD ERYN!" He yelled. "He put his heart out there for you and you don't tell him that he is the treasure of your heart? Mo cara, you'll only find on anam cara and he's it."

I sighed. "I know, Grappy. But I wasn't sure how he meant it." I felt the tears forming. "What if..."

"There's a computer. Email him." Grappa turned his attention back to the bacon.

I hopped off the counter. "Grappy?"

"Yes, cara?"

"Gráim thú ."

"I love you too, mo cara. Now, go tell Riqy."

I sleepily made my way into the computer room. I sat, wondering what I should say. When I opened up my email to email Tariq, I found one from him waiting.

_Ciara, I won't pretend that this is the easiest thing for me to say. I know we're best friends and all, but when I said I love you, I didn't mean it in that way. Since I can remember, I have loved you and have never said anything b/c of the friendship we share. I know you don't feel the same for me (at least I don't think you do), but I had to tell you. I hope that you will write back. With all my heart, Tariq_

I held back the tears and felt my heart jump. So he did feel for me what I felt for him. I hit 'reply'. _Darling Riqy, how can I not love you back? You're everything to me. Like you, I've never said anything b/c I didn't want to lose the friendship. Riqy...there is no one else for me and I want you to know that. I don't remember exactly when I fell in love with you. All I know is that I do. I want you to come home safe to me, Riqy. I never thanked you for the necklace. It's lovely and some my DVD to you pales in comparison. Write me soon, Riqy. Le grá go deo...Ciara_

I bounded back into the kitchen and saw Gramma standing next to Grappa helping to set the table.

"Morning, Gramma." I hugged her.

"Morning, cara. How's Riqy?"

"He's fine, seanmháthair." I tried as much as I could to speak the Gaelic my grandparents and father taught me growing up. Gramma smiled at me. "He called this morning."

"Aye. So your seanathair tells me. And he told me that Riqy said he loved you and, cara, you didn't say anything back." She pursed her lips in disapproval.

"Now, that's the funny thing, Gramma. I told Grappa about it and he told me to email Riqy. I get on and there's an email from him. He told me it wasn't in the best friend sort of way. That he loved me for as long as he could remember."

"And?" Gramma prodded.

"I emailed him back."

"Cara! Don't leave us like this." Grappa teased. "What did you say to him?"

"I told him that I don't remember when I fell in love with him. I just know that I am." I smiled.

Gramma clasped her hands together. "With two different cultures and religions combing, how will this be perfectly arranged?" Her eyes sparkled and shone and I could see her planning a wedding right there in their kitchen.

"Don't get too excited, seanmháthair. We've only told each other of our love. Doesn't mean anything will happen." I tried to reason.

Gramma would not listen. "Look at the necklace he bought ye. That is something you give when you want someone. And your mother told me of the ring his mother gave you. No woman does that if she's not expecting something grand to happen." She kissed my cheek and cupped my face in her hands. Looking me in the eye, she said "Don't let him go."

I smiled. "Only by death."


	5. How Do I Love Thee?

We threw all the wrapping paper in the fireplace and gathered our new treasures to admire them. I carefully picked up my presents and put them in the room I was staying in. I put my coat on to walk in the snow. I had too much going on in my head to do anything else. Walking was my way of sorting through things.

"Where you off to, cara?" Grappa asked as I headed out the door.

"Hawai'i. I heard it's warm this time of year." I smiled.

"Be safe out there. Don't go near any volcanoes. I'm sure Pela doesn't need you as a sacrifice." Grappa joked back.

I kissed his cheek. "I promise I will be."

I thought about what Tariq had said, not just on the phone, but in his email. I thought about my reply. _Would he reply..._ I silently started to curse myself for thinking that Riqy would say those things to toy with me. He wasn't that type of person. I sat on the bench my parents gave my grandparents for Christmas a couple years ago and stared at the white blissfulness.

"You'll catch your death of cold." My brother's voice scared me.

"What are you doing out here?"

He looked at me. "You think you're the only one that goes for walks to clear your head?" He sat next to me. "I've got my issues too. Not as bad as yours, granted." He nudged.

"What's going on with you?"

"Jessica."

"What about her?"

"I think she's feeling more for me than I feel for her." He sighed. "I'm 23 years old. I don't know if I'm in love or not. I don't know if I'm ready for marriage. I just got out of college and I need to focus on my career now. I talked with my counselor at the school and they think that I could do a rotation in the Emergency Room and continue learning there." He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. "I want that, sis. I am going to be an Emergency Room doctor and I don't think Jess understands that. She thinks that I'll be one of those doctors who work in an office Monday to Friday and home by 6 pm."

"You've always wanted to work in the Emergency Room. Is she trying to persuade you otherwise?"

"Yeah." He leaned back. My brother and I had this odd relationship where we spoke to each other about everything. Despite the typical sibling fights we had, we always knew that we could open up to each other. "She thinks that I'll be rolling in the dough as a doctor. I think, or at least am beginning to, she's wanting a life that I don't. I mean, we've never been rich, but we've certainly lived well."

"In want for nothing." I smiled, thinking of my dad's words one time when I complained about not getting the bike I wanted, but didn't get.

"It's a life I'm comfortable with." He sighed heavier this time.

"You are a diamond, Gianni."

"How?"

"You've never wanted a lot. You need to have something in your life that gives you what you want and need."

"That's not Jessica." He looked at me. "I mean, you've got Tariq."

I looked at him, exasperated. "Am I the only one that doesn't know something?"

"He loves you and..."

"He told me that on the phone and in an email."

"You told him you loved him back, right? Because if you didn't, I'm going to go Italian on you right now and kick your ass so hard that your grandchildren's grandchildren will feel it."

"Grappy told me to email Riqy and tell him, which I did. But am I the only one that missed it?" I slapped my gloved hands down on my thighs.

"Yeah. Tariq missed your love for him too. You were both caught up in this whole cairde aspect of your lives that you both missed out on years." He patted my shoulder. "It's okay. I think I took care of your half." He winked.

"Fool." I laughed.

"Don't stay out here too long." He stood up. "Don't let Riqy go because you're scared." He turned to leave and then faced me again. "You promise to watch out for me if we end up in the same ER, right?"

"Of course." I stood up and walked with him. "An older sister has to look out for her younger brother. But, you have to understand that we nurses really run the ER." I laughed.

"Noted." He laughed back.

* * *

I sat at the computer, staring at my inbox. I saw an email from Tariq, but hadn't opened it. I wondered what he had to say after reading what I said about me being in love with him too. I decided to open it and cried at what I read.

_Ciara, what a lovely email to receive. I had talked to my parents about what I was feeling and they told me that I needed to tell you. As Dad said, no chance taken is a chance wasted. I know it's clichéd to tell you that the war has made me think about life, death, and love. I've love you more than I could ever tell you for as long as I can remember. I cannot wait to come home to you and make this official. The thought of you waiting at home for me has seen me through the past couple of weeks and has helped me keep my head about me as we've gone in to the towns to find insurgents and rebels. Continue to wait for me. I love you. Tariq_

I wiped some stray tears as I hit reply.

_Tariq, I was afraid of how you'd react when I told you that I love you. I'm positive that you must have felt the same way. Why did we both wait to tell each other what we felt for each other, especially if we have felt this way for so long? You come home safe to me, Tariq. I cannot wait for you come home and make this official. I will wait for you, love. I'll be here for you when you come home. I love you! Ciara_

I sent the message and wiped some stray tears. Gianni came in and sat on the floor next to me. "You okay, CiCi?"

"Yeah. Just got an email from Riqy." I wiped a tear.

"He doesn't feel for you as he..."

"No, he does. It was the words he used to tell me he loved me." I hugged my brother. "He loves me. He really loves me!"

Gianni laughed. "Yes, Sally Field. He really loves you." He grinned ear to ear.

* * *

_Ciara,_

_Well, I just received your letter and I was so happy to see it. I didn't read it for a good 1/2 hour. I couldn't believe how good it smelled. So damned great that I just can't help myself from smelling it over and over again. And, yes, it HAS been an eternity. You don't know how much it means to me to know that you have that special feeling for me. I'm in such a great mood that I cannot believe how good of a mood I'm in!_

_I cannot wait to get home to you. Joey...Don't even tease that you could ever bore me. You haven't bored me for the past few years, so don't think it will start now. wink wink Your face and smell and the feel of your body against mine plays in my mind. _

_Anyhow...Sarge is screaming (but that ain't new!) so I need to close. Just remember I love you and always have._

_With my fullest heart,_

_Tariq_

I read the email about 10 times before I decided to respond back. I just held my fingers over the keys, wondering what to say; how to reply back. I was never one that was good at writing love letters. Tariq had written such a beautiful email that I was really stuck on replying back. I didn't want him to think that I couldn't feel deep love for him; I just couldn't seem to express it in words.

_Riqy...I've just read your email. Such beautiful words. No one ever knew you had it in you. wink wink nudge nudge, A nudge is as good as a wink to a blind bat! I read this thing over and over and over again, wondering how I could possibly reply back to your words without putting my foot in my mouth (which we BOTH know I do so often. No wonder I like sole. ahaha)_

_Anyhow, I could never express fully what I feel for you. I wish I could find the words and write you a beautiful Shakespearean Sonnet, but I can't. I wanted to send one of his your way, and all I could find was this one:_

_**Let me confess that we two must be twain,**_

_**Although our undivided loves are one:**_

_**So shall those blots that do with me remain,**_

_**Without thy help, by me be borne alone.**_

_**In our two loves there is but one respect,**_

_**Though in our lives a separable spite,**_

_**Which though it alter not love's sole effect,**_

_**Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight.**_

_**I may not evermore acknowledge thee,**_

_**Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,**_

_**Nor thou with public kindness honour me,**_

_**Unless thou take that honour from thy name:**_

_**But do not so, I love thee in such sort,**_

_**As thou being mine, mine is thy good report**_

_Then I remembered how much you loved this poem, so here it is. I guess it describes what I feel towards you:_

_**How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways.**_

_**I love thee to the depth and breadth and height**_

_**My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight**_

_**For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.**_

_**I love thee to the level of everyday's**_

_**Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.**_

_**I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;**_

_**I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.**_

_**I love thee with the passion put to use**_

_**In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.**_

_**I love thee with a love I seemed to lose**_

_**With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,**_

_**Smiles, tears, of all my life !--and, if God choose,**_

_**I shall but love thee better after death**_

_I know those are words of others long past, but they wrote what a lot of people feel, but can not say._

_Take care, Tariq. Come home safe to us; to me._

_Gráim thú (I love you) and cronaím thú (I miss you)._

_Le grá go deo (with love forever)_

_Ciara_

I hit the SEND button. Tariq and I were teaching each other the language of our parents. I sometimes felt sorry for him as he was trying to also understand Italian. I thought it best if he just learned the Gaelic. He was learning quick, though he rarely said anything in Gaelic.

I sat there, hoping he was on, even though I knew he wouldn't be.

"Cara!" I heard Grappa yell. "You're going to miss it!"

"Coming, seanathair!" I closed out. The new year was coming quick. I heard my family counting down, in an odd mix of English, Gaelic, and Italian.

Suddenly my dad hugged me. "Happy new year, poppet. This year should bring you many joys." His eyes danced and sparkled. "Riqy will come home to you, cara. I promise you."

I smiled. I knew Tariq would come home. It just couldn't come soon enough.


	6. Ah, Bantering How Fun

_I'm surprised you remembered that I liked the Elizabeth Barrett Browning poem. I only recited it a million time. _the email started. It had been a couple of weeks since I last heard from Tariq. While I knew that he was in a war and couldn't write me as much as I could him, there was a part of me that thought that my last email may have scared him off.

_Today wasn't a good day. We lost a guy. IED. The truck just ahead of us exploded into pieces. Surprised anyone survived it, but of the 4 men in that truck, 3 did. We were scared, but none of us dared to show it. Scream (our Staff Sergeant) was calm...It's like he'd been in a firefight his entire life and knew what to do and how to do it. It seemed as though it were just the 5 of us (Me, Smoke, Dim, Scream, and Angel) against the whole goddamned Iraqi army. I got hit, but it was an in and out of my calf. Hurts like all holy hell, but I'll survive. I'll tell you this much, it'll leave one hell of a hole. Scream gets a kick out of it. He thinks I'm lucky. I was shot once before, but my Kevlar vest stopped the bullet from doing anything worse than knocking the wind out of me. He seems to think I was born under a lucky sign. Maybe he's right._

_Anyhow, we'll be going out tomorrow again. Good will shit...throwing candy to kids...help guard a mosque. We'll help with the rebuilding of a school...which I'm really excited about. This is stuff the news, the American media, says nothing of. Why? Because they hate our President and they lump us in with him. That's a whole other issue that I don't want to get into right now, so let me leave you with this final thought:_

**_Not all angels have wings_**

**_Not all angels are heaven bound_**

**_There are angels among us_**

**_Their feet solid on the ground_**

**_Not all angels fly_**

**_Not all angels fall from the sky_**

**_Not every angel comes from out of the blue_**

**_I know this because my angel is you._**

_Always...Riqy_

I smiled at his final thought. Tariq was always so good at writing songs, poems, stories. Anything he got the urge to write, he did and he did well. I knew he'd one day write a novel about what he saw and did in Iraq.

_Ah, Dawson! I see you've not lost your touch in your writing. That was beautiful. Can I copy it and send it back to you? I wish I had your ability to write such lovely things, but no! I'm the crap one! But, I've got one for you:_

_Roses are red_

_Violets are blue (but are they really and if they are blue, why do we call them violets?)_

_You're in Iraq_

_And I miss you!_

_I KNOW! It's stupid, but it's all this blonde haired Irish/Italian can come up with. _

_Work was a little difficult today. A young boy, no older than 7, was brought in with a GSW to his ab. We tried and did all we could, but we lost him. The hardest thing to do is to tell parents they've lost their child. He had five other siblings, but that doesn't make his loss any easier. Dr. Biliecki left it to me to tell the parents. He was too disturbed as to why this little boy was shot. His dad left a loaded gun out where his kids could get it. Why don't parents think, Riqy? I grew up with guns. You grew up with guns, but they were NO WHERE we could reach. Even then, our parents made sure no rounds were in the chamber and the ammo was kept some place we didn't know about. A senseless death because the father was a damned paranoid alcoholic who believes the government is out to get him. He blames the White House for his son's death; not his negligence. I felt so sorry for the wife._

_Gianni is in the same ER as I am. Talk about weird. People look at us and go "Byrne? You related?" Sometimes, I just feel like putting a big sign around my neck that says "Yes, I AM related to Medical Student Gianni Byrne."_

_Then, Gianni hears this STILL: "Gianni's an ITALIAN name...Byrne's an IRISH name...How do you get both?" Blessed Gianni smiles and simply replies "Because I AM both." It is unusual, he realises, to have an Italian first name with an Irish last name. Sometimes he wishes he had an Irish first name to match the last or an Italian last name to match the first. It's funny how he still teases Momma about it._

_I am watching the calendar closely. February is closing in. This is strange...I feel as though I have a Valentine now...but yet, he's far from me._

_Well, I do need to get going. Gianni is celebrating. Jessica FINALLY dumped him! Who knew we'd have a celebration for a dumping? Guess we Irish/Italians will use any reason as an excuse to drink!_

_Take care, mo chroi._

_Joey_

_--------------------------------------- _

_Joey...Leave it to you to come up with a question like that!_ I smiled as I started to read Tariq's latest 'letter' home. _How about I do you one better?_ **Do me one better?** I thought. **OF COURSE you're going to do me one better, Tariq! YOU'RE THE WRITER! But, let's see what you've got!** I was not disappointed. _Roses are red, Violets are violet (or are they really blue? How come we've just always assumed violet was violet? How do we not know that Violet could possibly be in the BLUE family? But, that's just me...wink wink...uh, now where was I? OH YES!) Roses are red; Violets are violet; I love you with all my heart; Don't ever forget it. I wish you could be here as Dim is reading this over my shoulder, laughing and snorting._

_Don't worry. He knows I'll kick his ass he tries blackmail. _

_Sorry about your bad day at work. That's the tough part about doing what you do and it's what I admire so much about you. You can go through a situation like that and the next day, you're putting your scrubs back on and heading back. That takes a special kind of person._

_Glad Jess FINALLY dumped Gianni. Knew all along they weren't really right. Especially when he told us about wanting to be in Emergency Medicine. She's also too high maintenance for Gianni. We'll have to go out and party when I get back._

_I would send you some more 'love poetry', but Dim's reading this and I'm about ready to kick him where it will do the most damage!_

_With my heart, _

_Dawson_

I had to laugh. Even Tariq was glad that Jessica broke up with Gianni. I rather liked his poem too and hoped that one day I could meet some of the guys he served with and thank them for bringing him home safely, if he should. 

I sat, wondering what to say back. Now I was a little nervous that Dim or Angel or Smoke or, worse yet, his Sergeant would be reading this. I shivered in the cold air of the lunch room as I hit reply.

_Tariq, there is nothing new here to report. It's been a quiet evening. Since I had Christmas and New Year's off, I'm working a double shift to make up for it. Yeah...a month later! Simply because Karin wanted to go home to New York for her parents anniversary. So, we switched shifts. She worked doubles Christmas and New Year's so she could go. She's all excited! Said that when you come back, she, Robby, you and I all need to go out for some coffee. She said the REAL coffee, not that stuff you make with C4! She and Robby send their well wishes and love. They've decided to postpone the wedding until you come home. Robby says it wouldn't be the same if you're not here. So, we're looking at a July wedding for them now. Only hope your tour doesn't get extended._

_Last night, Marissa had her baby. A healthy 6 pound 5 ounce little boy she named Christopher. She misses Chris a lot. Christopher looks just like his dad. Well, as his dad looked as a newborn. She wrapped him up in that blanket you sent. She never really got to say THANK YOU to you for sending her Chris's stuff. Looks like he wanted a boy himself, with all that was there. It's been hard for her adjusting around here without him. At least, she says, she has a bit of closure knowing how he died. She feels you are all doing the right thing. She has something for you when you get home. I'm sworn to secrecy otherwise I'd tell you._

_Anyhow, mo chroi, my break is over. Time to go back out and help doctors perform miracles._

_With all my love and heart, _

_Ciara_

Before I headed back out to the floor, I wiped a few tears.

"You okay?" Dr. Biliecki stood at the coffee machine.

"Yeah. It's just having to write to Tariq and letting him know Chris had a son that's named after him."

"Ah, Marissa's husband." Dr. Biliecki sat across from me. "How did he die?"

"IED. A couple weeks ago. It pretty much tore Tariq to his soul. He and Chris were very close."

"Chris will be missed. At least Maris has her son healthy." He stood up. "Take your time. Come out when you feel ready to."


	7. The Homecoming

I sat with Lisa in the dark, watching the flames of the fire dance. "You know, Leese, it's really amazing how Detroit can be the least likely military town, and yet all the people I hang out with all are related to someone serving in or themselves serving in the military."

She smiled. "I know. It just seemed that when Riqy joined, all the others thought they should too." She wiped a tear. "I hated him for it."

"Riqy?"

"No. How could anyone hate Tariq?" She quietly laughed. "James. He decided that he wanted to join. He wasn't sure he wanted to do it full time though. Hence the National Guard."

"Riqy will bring him home safe." I comforted.

"I know. I just miss James. He called the other day and he's so homesick." She put her head on my shoulder. "CiCi, I don't know how I'm going to make it through the next three months."

"I'll be here."

"I know." She sat straight up. "I forgot to tell you that Riqy called me the other day."

I smiled. "I know. He told me. He didn't say what you talked about though. He just reminded me that, despite how busy I may be, to not forget about seeing you."

"He said you two finally admitted how you felt for each other."

I sighed. "Seems everyone but Dawson and I knew." I laughed. "I mean, his own mother telling me I'm part of the family. Grandparents reminding me to not let go of love. It's all rather..."

"Fate?"

"I guess."

She put another log in the fire. "The time was never right for you or Dawson to say anything. It's one reason we continued to call you 'Dawson' and 'Joey'. When you wanted to tell him, he was dating oh what's her name, now and you couldn't. You thought they would marry. Remember?"

She and I both laughed in memory. "Yeah, I do. How could I have been so blind?"

"Look how long it took for me and James. The _OTHER_ 'Dawson Leary' and 'Joey Potter'."

"True." My pager went off. "Man." I exclaimed. "I gotta get back to the hospital. You know where to find me if you need me, right?"

"You bet."

* * *

A part of me didn't want to wake up. I was having the most pleasant dream of Tariq. There he was, a white knight on a steed. If he had ever known that's how I pictured him a lot of the times, he would have laughed. He was never really one to get into Medieval images, except _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_

I checked my email and sure enough, there was one from Tariq. Excitedly, I opened it and was stunned at what I read.

_Mo anam cara, As Sarge, Smoke, Angel and Dim are not around to read what I am writing to you, it's going to be chock full of sop. It gets hard around here to tell you sometimes of what I'm feeling. Seems everyone is reading everyone's emails (over shoulders, of course) or half listening to conversations on the phone. So, as this tent is mostly empty, I can now spill the contents of my heart out to you and tell you what I want to._

_I wish I could see you face to face and tell you things that really could or should be face to face. It is only then that these words would have the effect I long for them to have. These are things that come from my heart, my soul and somehow, there's a part of me that feels they are cheapened by telling you like this, but being in a war, I don't know if I may have this opportunity...this chance again...so here goes! **.plugs nose and dives head first.**_

_I don't remember where I saw or heard this, but I hold it dear to my heart. A person is allowed only 3 great loves of their life. CiCi, you are my first and last. I don't want anyone else. You have an understanding of me that no one else, not even my parents, has. You are the keeper of the key to my heart and the guardian of my love._

_If only I could fly, I would fly far, far away from all of the hustle and bustle of everyday life and fly away to be with you._

_The other night, I got to dreaming about what my coming home to you would be like. It was so real that to wake up and find I was still in Iraq tore me apart. I had an opportunity later to sit and write something for you. I hope you like it._

**_The music is soft_**

**_Ambiance by candlelight_**

**_As you hold me close_**

**_I feel my heart start to take flight_**

**_Kisses soft and gentle on the cheek_**

**_Safely I'm held in your arms_**

**_Where I find no danger_**

**_But where I find refuge from harm_**

**_And there's not another place_**

**_That I would choose to be_**

**_The special bond we share_**

**_Was apparent from first stare_**

**_And the only thing I know_**

**_That I wish to know_**

**_Is that it is with you I belong_**

**_Your love as a guide_**

**_Your heart at my side_**

**_There's no way I could go wrong_**

**_And as you hold me, as slowly we dance,_**

**_With the music keeping time_**

**_My heart rests peacefully_**

**_Knowing that I am yours; you are mine_**

**_You're everything that I made a wish for_**

**_A definite dream come true_**

**_And there is a spiritual connection_**

**_Between me and you_**

**_Two souls, two hearts_**

**_Forever bound as one_**

**_Love too strong to break_**

**_Too strong of a bond_**

**_The unspoken words_**

**_Speaks volumes to the other heart_**

**_And the promises of a love_**

**_To never be torn apart._**

_I know that may be silly or whatever, but I thought of you; dancing with you in front of a fire. Seems that fate has finally played its hand and brought us where we really should be._

_Cara...don't think this is the war talking. The war was simply fate's way of telling me to tell you what has been in my heart the past few years. I LOVE YOU!_

_I can say it a thousand times over and over, but could never tire of saying and even if I were to tell you a thousand times over and over, it would never seem to be enough._

_I love you and I'll see you in three months! (Yes, we ARE counting the days! Two more months here and then the final month in Kuwait, getting debriefed!)_

_With all that I am,_

_Tariq

* * *

_

_OKAY! I'm SOOO ready for these next three months to get over with!_ It was the first letter Tariq wrote where you could hear the frustrated exhaustion in his words. There were times I wanted to reach through the computer and hold him because you could tell he was homesick, but this email was frustration. _Sometimes I wonder about the adequacy of our Officers. Lieutenant Hunter was bad, but this new one! Trying to think is hard. He doesn't sleep and therefore believes noone else does. Sgt. Scream, who's never been known to keep his mouth shut on anything, has said something. I told Scream, when I grow up, I want to be just like him: he always has a sense of respect when talking to an Officer, even if he doesn't like them. He's always polite, well...at least until he's forced to be impolite, but he's never wrong. That's what's amazing about him. He has these instincts. Dim one time teased Scream that he worked for the enemy and that's how he knew things. Scream ripped him up one side and spit him out the other. Dim was on latrine duty for a full month. When asked why, he said all he did was piss off his Sergeant._

_We've got the world's most amazing Captain._ Tariq's frustration was apparently fading as he continued to write on. _Captain Baron. The Duke is what we call him. He's one of those that you believe that he managed to miss the lobotomy they must give all Officers and has never rescheduled. He may be the CO of this camp, but he lets the Sergeants pretty much run things, which is exactly how the NCOs like it._

_Anyhow...sorry this one isn't more lovey-dovey, but there's not much time and I just needed an ear of someone not involved over here to listen._

_Two and a half months and counting..._

_Tariq_

I sighed heavily. Tariq so rarely complained about anything, that when he did, you paid attention. _I'm sorry you are having to go through this. Believe me, when all is said and done, you'll come out the better for it. Right? Is that what I'm supposed to say? The closest I have is dealing with Dr. Camnecki, but she's not THAT bad. Tell your Sergeant and Captain that your family is thankful they're there...showing you the better side of Army personnel. **.winking at you.**_

_I would love to be able to meet them. Tell them they are UNDER ORDER to bring you home safe. If they don't, I'll personally kick their asses.** .grinning broadly.**_

_Keep your chin up and remember there's a lot of people here who are anxious for you to come home. My grandparents have already offered up their cabin._

_Talk to you later._

_All my love,_

_CiCi_

Trying to find words for a situation I didn't know anything about more than the email was tough. As it was sent, I hoped I didn't put my foot too far in my mouth.

A couple days later, I got a letter from him.

_Ciara, I wish there was more to report on from here, but there's not much going on here. Just writing you to let you know that I'm okay. Things are quieting down. There was a brief moment we thought that the action was going to pick up, but the insurgents don't seem to have much fight in them. I think things will get better here soon. Especially since they just had elections. Democracy is such a strange idea to the Iraqis. Some of them don't even want to vote because they think it's too complicated._

_I just want to be done with all this when this tour is over...at least for a while. Combat is so much easier than the humanitarian side. Now, with us putting the insurgents on the run, we have to try to fix this area. That means schools, sanitation, and mosques. The guys videotaping it get pretty tired. We're providing security and we get tired. Just imagine how tired the guys doing the "REAL" work suffer!_

_Thanks for you encouraging words. It's nice to know that no matter what happens you're there for me. _

_Two months and counting...Tariq

* * *

_

The two months passed quicker than a snowball melting in a fire. I had told work that Gianni and I had a homecoming to attend and they were more than lenient. I stood in front of the mirror, wondering if the sundress was okay to wear.

"You look lovely, cara." Poppa smiled. "I know Tariq will be glad to see you and not give a ha'penny's head or a farthing's tail about what you're wearing."

"I know, Dadai. Still, I don't want to be too under or over dressed." I slipped the sandles on. "I'm just really nervous, Poppy."

"Why?"

"There's just me and Tariq now. There's no phone calls, letters or emails to hide behind. We now have to face everything we've admitted over the past few months and I'm scared he's going to realise that the war..."

"Don't you worry your head about it. He won't regret anything, save not telling you sooner." Poppa smiled. "Let's go. The Nassiri's are waiting."

We scanned the Soldiers standing at attention. I couldn't find Tariq. Tariq, by no stretch of the imagination, was a tall man. I looked at Yasmina, who apparently found him, for she was smiling and nudging Yusef. I followed her pointing finger and saw him. He was still and looked so handsome in his uniform. I couldn't wait for the Chaplain to finish and for the Soldiers to be dismissed.

Lisa sat next to me, as anxious to hold James as I was to hold Tariq. Once the word was given, the Soldiers let out a big and loud cheer and families descended upon the tarmac. Lisa wiped tears as she saw James walking towards her. I could see Tariq heading our way, but wanted his parents to be the first to greet him. After they exchanged hugs, he came over to me and gave me the biggest hug. He looked at me and smiled. For a brief moment, I wondered if my first instinct of him not meaning what he said so often in the emails, but then he kissed me.

If there had been a doubt, it was gone.


	8. The Little Boy

There was a small cheer behind that caused Tariq and I to start laughing. He rested his forehead on my shoulder and laughed while I was trying to wipe tears of joy and laughter from my eyes. It was, as Gianni said later, a total movie moment.

"So, Tariq, this the gal you were talking about?" A tall young man came strolling in our direction.

"Yeah." He shook hands with the guy. "Ciara, this is Dim."

"Nice to meet you. But, why are you called 'Dim'?" I asked as I shook his hand.

He sighed. "I graduated from Cornell, but still joined the Army. They thought I had to be stupid to that, so hence the nickname 'Dim'." He had a pleasant smile.

"Where's Vanessa?" Tariq asked.

"Probably out whoring around would be my guess." Dim sighed.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize on my behalf."

"Yo, Tariq!" Another one of Tariq's squad mates came over to meet him. He looked at me. "You must be CiCi."

"I am and you are?"

"Angel."

"Of course. Tariq spoke frequently of you that I began to wonder if he loved you." I teased.

Angel put his arm around Tariq's shoulders. "I was his first love, you know." Angel laughed.

"Nah, man. You got that wrong. I was." Another guy came over. "I was the first to show you love man."

Tariq laughed. "Yeah, Smoke. You definitely were the first to show me love. 'Hey, Ahab. Ahab the Arab!'" This apparently was some sort of inside joke that I didn't know.

"Yeah, but after my moms's stroke and all that other shit went down, you showed what a man was about." He shook my hand. "Sorry, I'm Maurice Williams."

"Ciara Byrne." I shook his hand. "So, you're the infamous Smoke."

"Yeah. What he say about me?" Smoke huffed his chest out in jest.

"Oh, just that you were a loose cannon that he wanted on his side, at all costs." I smiled.

"I got Tariq's back. After he got mine, despite my initial treatment to him." Smoke gave Tariq a quick 'man' hug and went to greet his family.

"It was so nice to finally meet all of you." Tariq and I walked off. "So, where's your Sergeant and Captain?"

"Captain Baron is somewhere in there, but you won't get to meet Scream. He was with a different unit to start off with and he was extended 90 more days to take care of us. He then decided that he needed to stay with us the rest of our tour."

"Long TOD."

Tariq sighed. "Yeah, it was. He spent two full years in the Sandbox. He could have gone home after his 90 days, but he decided it was in _OUR_ best interest if he stay. He was right. We all came to love and respect that man. Don't know what we would have done without him."

"Gotten your asses killed." Tariq jumped at the sound of a gruff voice beside him in the shadows. The guy stepped out and I was awed by him. He was this most amazing looking specimen of man, only overshadowed by Tariq.

"What are you doing here, Sergeant?" Tariq shook the guy's hand.

"Came to make sure you all got home okay." He extended his hand to me. "Staff Sergeant Chris Silas. You must be Ciara."

"It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." He looked back to the tarmac where the families were still greeting their loved ones. "I never claimed to care about your personal lives, but it's nice to know you all have family to come home to." There was a distant sadness in Chris's eyes that made me hurt for him.

"You going to go say something to the others, Sarge?" Tariq asked quietly.

"Not really. You're the only one I wanted to say something to." He shook Tariq's hand again and disappeared as quickly as he seemingly appeared.

I looked Tariq deep in the eye. "Why was he only concerned about you? Why wouldn't he be of the others?"

He stared in the direction his Sergeant walked off in. "He was concerned for the others."

"So why only welcome you home?"

He looked at me. "If I tell you, you can not tell anyone."

I smiled. "Was he your lover?" I teased.

"No. I told you that was Angel." He teased back.

"So? One for now and one for later!" I sang in jest.

"You got me." His eyes danced in the moonlight.

"Okay, serious." I wrapped my arms around his waist.

"I became his most valuable Soldier."

"Does that come with an award? Like MVP, only it's MVS?" I giggled.

He pulled away. "I'm serious, Joey."

"I'm sorry, Dawson. I was just..."

"I know. But, because I had knowledge of the culture and spoke the language, Baron and Scream relied heavily on me. When I was shot, I was out of commission for about three days and they were pulling out what little hair they have until I was able to walk without bleeding everywhere."

"So, they're afraid of being called out for playing faves?"

"Pretty much." Tariq faced me. "It's not just that. I was the only one Sergeant Silas opened up to about anything. I was the one he trusted with shit like that."

"But he said he didn't care about your personal life."

Tariq smiled. "Yeah. It was this little game. He said something like that to Dim one time and it was every time Scream and I would talk, we'd end up saying 'I would like to say I care about your personal life, but I was taught to never lie.' and that would indicate end of conversation. It meant the person talking had opened up as far as he was willing to at that point."

"So what all did you talk to him about?"

He grabbed my hand. "More later. Right now, I've only got one thing on my mind." He bent down and began to kiss me.

I'd been kissed before, but as his tongue danced with mine, I felt like I was going to lose my balance. I pulled in tighter to him, to steady myself, and he followed my lead, holding me closer to him. I felt scared that he would feel my heart beating as though it would beat out of my chest, but I could feel his pounding. For the first time in my 26 years, I felt safe. I felt as though a nuclear bomb could go off right next to us and only Tariq and I would remain. I remembered the one scene from NEVER BEEN KISSED and felt as though everything else around me grew hazy and it was just Tariq and me in focus.

I was a little scared and Tariq felt it. "Cold?" he asked as he felt me shiver.

"Nervous."

He rested his forehead on mine. "Why?"

I looked up to him and lost myself in his eyes. "I'm given the chance to be so much more to my best friend and what if I can't live up to it?"

Tariq smiled. "You're doing just fine." And with that, he kissed me again.

* * *

The flight back to Detroit from California was too short for my liking, but being home in Detroit meant more alone time with Tariq. We had joked about becoming members of the 'Mile-High Club', but with our families on the plane, we decided it wouldn't be a good idea.

"Besides," Tariq said, "Our first time shouldn't be trying to fit in a small bathroom." I couldn't have agreed more.

It just seemed we had just taken off from LA when we landed in Detroit. Outside of the security gates to greet us was the rest of our family and friends. WELCOME HOME signs and balloons were held high. Cheers echoed loudly in the airport as James, Lisa, Tariq and I walked out.

Tariq and James accepted hugs, kisses and flowers from the friends that couldn't make it to California. Even complete strangers welcomed them back, thanking them for their service. It was the first time I'd ever seen James cry.

Tariq was moved by one little boy. The little boy came up to Tariq. "Are you a Soldier?"

Tariq knelt down to the little boy's level. "Yes, sir. I am."

"Do you kill people?"

The mother was apparently aghast at her young son's boldness, but Tariq smiled at her. "Only if I have to. I kill the bad people who want to kill you and your mommy and all the other people in America."

"Are you brave?"

Tariq chuckled softly. "Not really. It takes more bravery to talk to someone than it does to hurt them."

"Did you see my daddy?"

Tariq looked at the young boy. "I saw a lot of daddies over there."

"Did you help the children over there?"

"Certainly."

"How?"

"We gave them candy, built them schools and playgrounds. We gave them books to read and teddy bears to sleep with. Mostly, we gave them freedom."

"When I grow up, I want to be a Soldier like you." The little boy suddenly threw his arms around Tariq's neck, giving him a hug. Tariq hugged the small boy.

The mother wiped a tear from her eye. "Come on, Tommy." She looked at Tariq. "I'm sorry. His dad was KIA in Iraq and..."

"It's okay." Tariq stood up, wiping a stray tear. "It's little kids like your son that remind me of why I put the uniform on every day."

The lady gave Tariq a hug. "I can not tell you how much it means to us that there are men out there like you and my husband, fighting for the rights of others."

"It's okay. I'm proud to do so."

I was amazed at Tariq. He had always been shy with strangers, even after joining. This war changed him. He seemed more confident and able to talk to strangers with ease and without suspicion. After the lady and her son walked off, I gave him a hug. "Amazing."

"What?" He kissed my forehead.

"You." I smiled.

"What about me?" He playfully smiled back.

"Not being suspicious of a stranger." We began to walk. "What happened in Iraq to change all that?"

"Being the interpreter." He squeezed me.

* * *

I woke up to get a drink and found Tariq standing in front of the window, staring outside. I crept up to him. "You okay?"

He jumped, knocking over and breaking a vase. "Don't EVER sneak up on me!" he yelled.

I stepped back. "I'm sorry. I..."

"Nah, I'm sorry. It's just that..." He sighed. "I really shouldn't have yelled, but you can't sneak up on me. It scares me."

I sat on the couch. "What's changed?"

He sat next to me. "I was in a war."

"Talk to me." I rested my head on his shoulder.

"If you could understand." He gently stood up. "How about a ride?"

"Ride?"

"Yeah. My motorcycle's in the garage and I'm sure it still works. I don't feel like riding alone. What do you say?"

"It's 2 in the morning."

Tariq shrugged. "So?"

"Isn't it a little late for a ride?" I stood up.

"CiCi, I can't stay cooped up here like this." He got up and put his jacket on. "Either come with me or don't. I'm..."

"Give me a couple minutes." I didn't understand his need to go out motorcycling riding at two in the morning, but I didn't want him to go alone either. We headed out on his bike and drove where it led. There were times that I felt Tariq was going too fast or weaving too much, but I had ridden with him enough times to know that he was a safe driver. We ended up in Hudson, a small town about an hour outside of Detroit. He found the only place in all of Hudson open 24 hours and we had breakfast. I was hoping he'd open up a bit, but he didn't speak of what he saw in Iraq.

"What do you say we head up to Chicago?" He smiled.

"That's a six hour drive."

"So?"

"You didn't get much sleep last night. Would you be up for it?" I sipped my coffee.

"Yeah." He allowed the waitress to fill his cup up. "We'll go and spend a couple days there."

"A couple days? I've got work tomorrow."

"I forgot." He looked down.

"Tell you what." I put my mug down. I have two days off starting Sunday. If you still feel like going to Chicago then, we'll go. I promise." I smiled and put my hand in his.

He looked at me and smiled back. "I'm going to hold you to your promise."


	9. Ducatis At Midnight

Hesitantly, Tariq and I climbed on his motorcycle. I was tired and wanted sleep and Tariq wanted Chicago. As I wrapped my hands around his waist, I couldn't help but wonder how much the war did change him. He always loved the Ducati that his enlistment bonus paid for and the speed it brought, but he seemed to crave the speed even more on this ride.

He wove in and out of the light traffic, speeding furiously to an unseen destination. I didn't feel fear, but felt apprehensive about his excessive speed. He pulled into the driveway of my parents' house, and got off. I looked at him. "Wanna watch the sun rise?" I smiled.

"You can tell me, CiCi." Tariq took his helmet off.

"Tell you what?" I handed him my helmet.

"What you're thinking."

"About what?"

"Everything." Tariq put the helmets on the seat and leaned against his bike. "Tell me everything you're thinking right now."

I sighed and stood between his legs, arms around his neck. I looked in his eyes. "I am trying to understand you right now." I gently kissed him. "I don't think I'll ever understand the..."

Tariq suddenly jumped, knocking me to the ground. He was alert and I swore his hands were holding an imaginary M-16 and he was crouching. I watched him carefully, intrigued by this. I gently tapped his shoulder and he knocked me to the ground. I was surprised to see him on top of me, his hand clenched in a fist ready to hit me. His hand dropped and he hung his head. "Sorry." He got up and walked to his parents' house.

I could only watch in sorrow as he walked off. Something was bothering him and I was going to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

Dr. Holcomb looked at me. "Without warning?"

"Yeah. All that happened was a truck backfired and suddenly, he's in this sort of war mode." I sipped my coffee.

Dr. Holcomb sighed. "Keep an eye on him. If it worsens, you bring him into me."

"Why the rides at 2 in the morning, going over a hundred miles an hour?" I sighed.

Dr. Holcomb smiled. "He's just gotten back from a war, where his senses were on overload. He was more than likely being shot at every other day or every time he went on a mission." She looked at me. "He's not going to adjust to the life he had before the war. He's going to be seeking an adrenaline rush every chance he gets. The ride at two am, well, there's many explanations for that. The rush of the speed. It's not going to contain itself to the bike. He may find other ways to fulfill his need for adrenaline."

"Is this normal?"

"Very. But, I'm mostly concerned about his trauma."

"Trauma?"

Dr. Holcomb sighed. "Yes. From what you just told me, it sounds like Tariq's got PTSD."

I sighed and leaned back. "What causes that?"

"The trauma of war. What he has seen and has done has affected him deeply. It may be simple PTSS or it could be the disorder. Either way, he's got post traumatic stress."

"What do I do?"

"Just be there for him. It gets any worse, you bring him to me."

* * *

I groggily answered the door. "Hey."

Tariq looked up, looking rather ashamed. "I know it's late, but..."

"It's okay. I just got off work. Come in." I moved and let him enter. "What's wrong?" I closed the door and leaned against it.

"Nightmares." He fell heavy onto my couch. "We're on a simple mission, right? Handing out candy to the kids, right? Suddenly, there's this loud..." He jumped as I accidentally dropped a coffee cup, shattering it.

I looked up at him, this look of terror on his face. "It's okay. I just dropped the mug."

He slumped down on the couch. "I can't take this, CiCi."

"Here." I handed him a cup of coffee and sat next to him. "How long have these nightmares been going on?"

"Since I got home." He looked around. "It's too damn quiet around here. I should be reveling in sleeping without fear of a mortar going off thirty feet from my tent or whatever, and yet I find myself unable to."

"You want to go for a ride?" I nudged.

He looked at me and smiled. "Why the hell not?"

* * *

"Tariq!" I yelled.

"What?" He yelled back.

"I gotta pee!"

I heard him laugh. "Next stop there's a small 24 hour place. You can go pee and we'll get some breakfast there. What do you say?"

"Sure." Next stop, Tariq pulled into Rosey's 24 Food Hall. I laughed at the name. "What sort of name is that?" I quipped as I got off the bike.

Tariq laughed. "Not sure, but you never forget it, I'll tell you that." He took me by the hand and in we walked.

An elderly, oversized woman who looked like she belonged in a Jeff Foxworthy joke more than a diner, approached us. "Ya'll can have a seat right over there and I'll get you in a moment, sugars." She pointed to the booth in the back of the restaurant.

Tariq held my hand as we walked back. He seemed oblivious to all the stares. I stared back. One guy stood in front of Tariq, blocking our path. He looked Tariq up and down. "How about that? We've got al Qada in our midst, gentlemen. How about getting the reward for capturing one?"

Tariq's calmness surprised me. He looked at the guy. "If you'd excuse us, we would like to get to our booth for food and coffee."

"No can do." The guy smiled wickedly as he chomped on a toothpick. "You're in Detroit now, Mohammad."

Tariq smiled. "I know. I was raised here. Now, I'd like to get to my..."

"Honey," the guy looked at me. "He holding you hostage? You need rescuing?"

"Yeah, I do." I glared him. "From ignorant pricks like you."

"Hey!" The guy pushed Tariq aside and grabbed my arm. "You don't ever talk to a man like that." He slapped my face.

While I was too shocked to do anything, Tariq hit the guy so hard he hit the table. None of the others moved. Tariq stood over the guy. "You EVER hit her or any other woman again, you'll have me to answer to." He took my hand. "Let's go."

I stuck my tongue out at the guy as Tariq and I left. The guy stood up and tossed me aside and threw Tariq against the counter. When Tariq's head hit the corner of the cash wrap, I lost it. "Hey you hoor's melt!"

The guy looked at me. "What?"

I stood up. "Don't play stupid with me, you snotty nosed little shite." I felt the Irish temper in me rise. "You know damn well what I'm saying."

Tariq stood up, wiped some blood from above his eyebrow and cockily grinned. "She's gone all Dublin on you, bud. You're in for it now."

The ignorant prick looked at Tariq. "Ain't nobody talkin' to you, Mohammad."

"You shitehawk gobshite!" I yelled. The crowd looked at me, half expecting me to hit the guy who was twice my size. Tariq just leaned against the counter, still smiling cockily. The guy looked at me. I tilted my head to the side. "You lookin' to get your snot broke or for a bus?"

Tariq giggled softly. "Here we go!"

The guy punched Tariq again and I lost it. I hit the guy so hard that he fell to the floor. He looked up at me and tried to speak, but I put my foot on his throat. "Listen here, you gicker licker. You better learn who you're dealing with before you start picking a fight. You never know who's going to kick your ass." I took my foot off his throat and continued to stare at him. "Mmmhmm. Just as I thought. Just like a tit in a trance." I grabbed Tariq's hand and we left.

Tariq laughed. "You're amazing. Just when I think I've got you pinned." He leaned in and gently kissed me. "You never cease to surprise me."

"Well, you've surprised me often enough since you got back home. Thought I'd return the favor." I climbed on the bike and Tariq sped off.

* * *

Tariq slept quietly on my couch, the television still on. I stood watching him, amazed at how calm he had been just a few hours before. I looked at the cut just above his eye and smiled. _You come home from Iraq, with a couple scars, and yet your most noticeable one is from a fight here in the States._ I softly kissed his forehead and he stirred.

He looked up at me for a brief second, smiled, and fell back asleep. I felt sorry for him. I wondered when the last good night's sleep he had. It had to have been at least a year. He had gone to Fort Hood for 6 months of training before shipping of to Iraq for a year. So many things changed and he missed most of them.

I poured me a cup of coffee and left a note for him. I had to get some errands run before heading off to work and there was not a better time to run them. As I headed out the door, I heard him scream. I ran back in to find him sitting straight up, looking around as though he had no idea where he was at. "Riqy?" I softly spoke as I approached him. "You okay?"

He buried his face in his hands. "I had that nightmare again." There was something distraught in his voice.

"Would it help to talk about it?"

"Who'd understand?" He looked at me.

"That Sergeant of yours would, wouldn't he? Don't you have a way to contact him?" I wanted to mention Dr. Holcomb, but knew better just by the look he shot me.

Tariq nodded. "Yeah. I'm the only one who does. Scream didn't care much for the others, save Angel."

"Dim seemed like a nice guy."

"Dim is. Just too impetuous. Too unstable in wartime." Tariq laughed. "Too much of a brainiac. I like the guy. He was the only one who talked to me like I was a person when I first joined the team. He, Angel, and I were the best friends of the team. Smoke separated himself from the rest of us, but we did what we had to do to help and protect him." Tariq leaned against the back of the couch. "But, Sergeant Scream. Staff Sergeant Chris Silas. There's an enigma."

"Does he have family?" I was intrigued.

Tariq smiled. "He's got a mom and dad."

I playfully hit his shoulder. "I have some errands to run. You know you can stay here for as long as you need to. I've got to be to work at midnight tonight, so won't be able to do any rides at 2 in the morning." I smiled and kissed him. "You call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Yes, dear." Tariq joked. "I will, you know that."


	10. The Accident

I looked up at the clock. Two A.M. I wondered if Tariq was out riding his bike or sleeping. The Emergency Room was pretty quiet for a Friday night. It seems all I was doing was stocking and restocking what I just stocked.

A mother panicked and brought her baby in who had a fever, but nothing else. I smiled at the mother, thinking I'd do the same thing if I was ever a mother. She and I talked as Doctor Givens looked the baby over.

The young mother looked at me. "You have kids?"

"Does a Soldier returning from war count?" I laughed.

She looked at me. "You're too young to ha..."

"She means her boyfriend." Dr. Givens laughed. "He got back a few weeks back and hasn't acted grown up since."

The young mother smiled. "I get it. You look over him a lot?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Someone has to." I looked up as I heard commotion in the ambulance bay.

"Baby's fine, Ciara. Go help." Dr. Givens nudged.

I rushed out and ran to where the paramedics were working on a young man on the gurney. "What is it?"

The paramedic doing chest compressions looked up at me. "MVA. You sure you want to help?"

"What? It's my job." I was flabbergasted. I followed them into an exam room. In the fury, I didn't look at the patient as his stats were being relayed to Doctor Johns. I followed orders and got what was asked for and then I saw the patient. "RIQY!" I screamed and dropped what was in my hands.

Dr. Johns looked at me. "Get her out of here." She said, demanding, but soft.

Nicole took me by my arm. "Come on. Tariq will be fine."

I unwillingly went. "How will I cope without him?"

Nicole led me into the break room. "He's going nowhere. You know that Dr. Johns is one of the best attendings here. Your Dawson will be fine."

Gianni came in. "I just saw who the MVA was." I hugged my younger brother. "You okay?"

"How will...what if something happens?" I wailed.

Dr. Johns entered the break room a half hour later. She sat next to me. "He's waiting for a bed in ICU, but he's in Exam 3. Go see him."

I made my way to see Riqy in Exam 3. He made it back from Iraq in one piece and now there were tubes and machines hooked up to him. I sat in the examination stool and held his hand. "Don't you DARE leave me!" I yelled in a soft whisper. "Don't you DARE! I love you and I wouldn't know how to exist without you."

In a couple hours, Tariq was moved up to the ICU. Dr. Johns gave me the rest of the morning off to sit with him. His parents, my parents, Gianni, Lisa, and James were there, keeping vigil.

"Ciara?" I looked up at the officer standing in the door.

"Hey." I looked at Yasmina and Yusef. "I'll be back." I followed the officer out the door. "What's up, Tony?"

"What's this about last night and a fight at Rosey's 24 Food Hall last night?"

"Some gicker lickers were giving Riqy a hard time. It was only when the guy slapped me that Tariq hit him. Why?"

He pulled out a photo. "Recognize this guy?"

"That's the guy that hit Tariq." I gasped.

"He's also the one that drove Riqy off the road."

"You arrested the asshole, didn't you?" I felt the anger rise.

Tony shook his head. "Nope." I wanted to yell, but Tony finished. "We had him stopped, or so we thought. He led us on a high-speed chase, which is what led to Riqy being run off the road. He finally stopped, but killed himself before we could arrest him."

"Why kill himself?" I sat down.

"Bill Harding. Wanted in New Hampshire for capital murder. An entire Middle Eastern family. He didn't want to go to prison for life." Tony sat next to me. "I'm so sorry about Tariq. It was..."

"You were doing your job." I wiped some tears away. "It's not your fault. It's the eejit's fault and he's the only one I'll blame."

Yasmina, who had been listening, gave Tony a hug. "You have protected Tariq his entire life and you have now." She smiled at him. "He'll be fine. I trust Allah to take care of my baby."

I jumped out of the chair when I heard a heart monitor flat line. I was so scared it was Riqy's. When I made it to his bedside, I discovered his heart rate was normal. Dr. Johns came up and I looked at her, teary. "A word, Byrne?"

"Yeah." I stepped outside. "I'm sorry, Lucy, but..."

"We're assigning you to be Tariq's nurse until he's stable. You'll have your same shift, but you have to be a nurse and not attach yourself too much. We all decided that this would be best for you and him both. He'd get the care of a nurse who loves him beyond all that can be given and it will give you peace of mind and you'll be able to see how well he's progressing, instead of losing concentration in the ER." She smiled. "He's going to be okay. While he did take a nasty spill, and there were a couple touch and go moments, the examination showed little damage to any vital organs. We got the internal bleeding controlled. He will survive this. He'll wake up to a broken bone or two. Couple bruised ribs, and in serious pain, but he'll be fine."

"Excuse me, Lucy?" Gianni stuck his head out.

"Yeah?"

"He's coming to."

Both Dr. Johns and I ran into the room. She looked at Tariq, who was looking around, trying to figure out where he was and how he got there. The stress showed on the monitor. Yasmina reached over and took his hand, trying to calm him. She spoke to him in Arabic, and whatever it was, worked. His heart rate slowed down. Everyone, except Dr. Johns, Gianni and I left.

Tariq made like he wanted to speak, so we found the alphabet board we used for patients who were unable to speak and held it in front of him. He spelled out NIGHTMARE and closed his eyes again. Dr. Johns watched the monitors for a couple minutes before deciding that he was okay and just fell asleep.

I spent the rest of my shift standing over him, making sure he was okay.

* * *

Tariq was in ICU for another month. He'd have moments where he was awake and then moments where we thought we might lose him. But for now, he was pretty stable, and soaking in the attention. 

The day he was moved into a normal hospital room, there was a visitor. I looked up at the figure standing in the shadows of the door. "Visiting hours are over. You can come back in the morning."

"He going to be okay?"

I recognized the gruff voice. "Sergeant Silas?"

"Yeah. Tariq going to be okay?" He moved in, keeping quiet so as to not wake the sleeping kid.

"He took a nasty hit, but he's fine. If he wasn't, he wouldn't be here. He'd still be in ICU."

"Sorry I couldn't make it out sooner. I had all this shit to take care of at home." He sat down. "I'm also sorry to be here past visiting hours."

I gently kissed Tariq's forehead. "It's okay, Sergeant Silas."

"Call me Chris."

I sat in the other chair. "Okay, Chris. It's all okay. He's been having nightmares about a mission."

"Kids? Candy?" Chris looked at me with an intent look.

"Yeah, and an IED."

Chris sighed. "He had that nightmare quite a lot in Iraq, after the one ambush. We were on our way to help with the kids and the school and yes, we had candy. The Humvee ahead of us was hit by an IED. Fortunately, no one was killed. Many times, the Humvee just ahead of us would get hit by an IED and one guy would be killed."

"So, it's not just a nightmare? It's real." I rubbed my eyes.

Chris nodded. "Yeah. Very much so. What Tariq saw that day will haunt him the rest of his life."

I looked at Chris. "What did he see?"

Chris just shook his head. "Nothing he wants to see again, I can tell you." He looked over at Tariq, who quietly moaned in pain. "What happened to the asshole who hit him?"

"Killed himself." Curiosity suddenly struck. "How did you know Tariq was here?"

"Didn't report back to command. My CO knew he was in my squad, so sent me out to look for him." Chris never took his eyes off of Riqy. It was as though Chris were the father and Tariq his only son.


	11. Tariq

I stared intently at Chris. "Him not reporting back to command doesn't explain how you knew he was here."

"They have him listed as AWOL. If I don't tell them what the real situation is, he'll be arrested." Chris looked at me.

"But how did you know?"

Chris sighed. "There are just things you don't need to know." And he crossed his arms, which I knew indicated that the conversation was over. "He's going to be able to return, isn't he?"

"To active duty, we're not really sure. Depends on what the Army doctors say. We've not been able to find anything that shouldn't allow it. He has a couple broken bones, but nothing that should keep him from performing his job to the best of his ability."

Chris smiled. "He's my best Soldier."

"He told me that you were a held over Sergeant and that..."

"He's been moved to my unit, per my request." Chris rolled his head. "If I ever serve in that godforsaken country again, I want Tariq by my side."

"What is the relationship with you two?" I crossed my arms and leaned back.

"What do you mean?" Chris was shocked.

"I mean, it's almost as though your concern for him is on the same level as mine and..."

"I know exactly where you're going and I suggest you don't." Chris's intense stare made me shift. "I don't open up to my men about my life. I'm very guarded and I intend to keep it that way. Tariq has this way about him and I found myself talking to him. I took him under my wing and despite the fact I'm only 11 years older than he is, I felt like a father around him. I had to protect him."

"I figured as much."

"But you..."

"It's cool, man." I smiled. "He needs a father when he's in combat, right?"

Tariq began to shift and his heart monitor showed his heart was beating faster. I jumped up and tried to calm him down. He woke up and threw me across the room. He was yelling in Arabic and I couldn't understand what all was being said. I watched as Chris walked calmly over to Tariq and, in the midst of flailing arms, calmed him down. Tariq's heart began to return to normal.

Chris smiled. "It's okay, man. You'll be fine."

"Sarge, it's this..." Tariq began to speak but became quiet when he saw me crying. "What's wrong?"

"You threw her across the room."

Tariq had a genuine look of surprise. "CiCi, I didn't..." I didn't hear what else he said as I ran from the room.

* * *

I sat in the break room, drinking a cup of coffee when the door opened. "This is for authorized personnel only, Chris."

"I know." He sat in front of me. "It's time you knew some things about Tariq."

I stood up. "How do you like your coffee?"

"As black as an Arabian night."

I poured him a cup and placed it in front of him. "Spill."

He took a sip and sighed. "I don't know everything Tariq told you in letters and emails or phone calls, but he held a lot back from you. One of the reasons I came to see him when they came home was, not just because he had just been transferred to my unit, effective when his month's R&R was over, but because of what he'd seen in Iraq. He was affected in a way that none of the other men who served with me were affected." He paused for what I felt was for drama and sipped his coffee. A part of me was beginning to hate this man for not being straight forward about things. He still didn't say how he knew Tariq was in the hospital and hit by a hit and run driver. This bothered me, but as I opened my mouth to say something, Chris started telling the story. "We all knew it was coming. You go on this mission and you just know something's going to happen, right?" His hazel eyes stared intensely at me and I found myself shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

"Well, not ever having been to combat, I can..."

"The mission was really straight forward. Because we were good at some of the shit missions, they were always handed to us." Again, a dramatic pause. He looked at his coffee. "This is some good coffee." He smirked. I just wanted to yell at him to just get on with the story and he seemed to sense this. "You want to always plan for the worst, but hope for the best." He sighed, seemingly annoyed at having to tell me this story.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It's apparently upsetting you." I said in as calm of a manner as I could find.

Without looking up at me, he continued. His eyes were glued to his cup of coffee, as if the whole story was playing out in the drink. "We had seen people killed many times and in fact, were witness to an execution, no thanks to Dim, but this...this was..." He stopped and something told me that whatever it was affected him deeply too. "He should have shot the asshole with the machete first." He was dwelling on something and he was starting to get angry.

"Look, Chris." I put my hand on his. "You really don't have to tell me. It's okay." I soothed. "I hated Tariq for throwing me across the room, but having known him for as long as I had, I knew it wasn't normal for him, Chris. I knew that he would change because of the war. I saw it in the airport."

Chris snapped to attention. "What?"

"How well do you know Tariq Mohammad Nassiri?"

"Better than some and not as much as others."

I smiled. "Tariq is extremely, almost painfully shy. He would often, even as a junior high school kid, hide behind his parents if a stranger approached."

Chris looked at me like I was insane. "He hit it right off with Dim. Those two..."

"The war, Chris. I've heard tell that war changes men." I smiled. "He was often accused of thinking that he was better than everyone else because he couldn't talk to the new kids or whatever. He grew up with the tag of being stuck up when the truth was he wasn't really that good at conversation. He would clam up, not knowing what to talk about. Now, if you got him started on a subject he knew well..."

"Like Iraqi culture?"

"Like Iraqi culture, he could talk for hours." I smiled in memory of an argument that he had with a world history teacher about Iraq. While Tariq was right, he was still suspended. I regathered my thoughts. "So, anyway, this little boy of about 5 or 6 approaches him in the airport and starts asking questions. We all know that Riqy is going to just freeze and not be able to say anything, but nope. He kneels right down to that little boy's level and answers the questions and even talks to the mom. That's not the Tariq that joined the Army nearly 4 years ago, Chris."

Chris looked at me. "So, because of an incident in the airport, you think you know the depths of his changes?"

"Not all of them, of course not. There's still the possibility of PTSS."

Chris nearly broke the mug in his hands. I felt as though I had touched a nerve. "Guys don't respond that way to just the syndrome, lady." I was shocked at how he called me 'lady' and not Ciara and scared by his tone of voice. I began to shake and he seemed to notice. "Look, what he'll be suffering from is not going to be the syndrome. I've been in this war business a long time and I know..."

"Then help him." I wiped some stray tears.

"I can't."

I looked at Chris. "You're the only one who has the slightest inkling of what's going on in his head with all this war games shit and the only one he will more than likely open up to." I stormed out.

* * *

I checked in on Tariq, who was staring out the window. "How you feeling?"

He looked at me. "I'm sorry that I..."

"It's okay. I was upset, but not at you. I'm upset that I can't help you." I checked his IV and then sat on the bed, facing him. I held his hand in mine. "You have always helped me when I needed it and now, well, now you need my help with what ever is bothering you and I can't help." I wiped a tear. "But it's not because I don't want to. I just don't know or understand what you saw in Iraq. I can not even begin to comprehend what an impact that has had on your life."

Chris walked in. "How you feeling, Tariq?"

Tariq smiled at his Staff Sergeant. "Like I've been to hell and back." Tariq thought for a moment. "Wait...I was in Iraq, wasn't I?" It was good to hear him chuckle again.

Chris sat in the chair he was in before. "You're lucky, kid. Like I told you when you were shot." Chris rolled his head. "From what I've heard about how you looked when you got in here, it's a lucky thing you're still here." He propped himself on his knees. "Baron sent me here to find you. He thought something had to be wrong for you to not report to command."

Tariq sighed. "MPs looking?"

"Yeah, but they really don't have anything since we can prove you've spent the last couple of months in a hospital, recovering from a hit and run." Chris smiled. "Besides, it's Captain Baron and he's took a liking to you in Iraq that he'd do what ever he could to save your scrawny little ass."

"Glad it's official, Staff. I can't think of a better man to serve with." Tariq's eyes began to close in sleep. Without warning, his heart monitor started to flat line. The doctors rushed in, shoving Chris and me out of the way.

I stood, held in Chris's strong arms, as the doctors worked to save Riqy's life again. It wasn't long into it when one of them noticed that the machine had been accidentally hit and was malfunctioning. Somehow, despite what had just happened, we all managed to laugh. It was a defective machine and was sent away immediately for repair. When the new heart monitor was hooked up, we could see Tariq's rhythms were normal.

Chris sighed heavily and he and I both smiled. I looked at him. "Jiminy Christmas Eve! Who'd have thought a heart monitor could be so easily damaged by a simple knock?" I sat heavily in a chair.

Chris did the same. "It was kind of scary." He looked at me. "I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life and half the shit I've seen." This time, he turned his attention to Tariq. "It's nice to know, though, that he is okay. I mean..." and the man Tariq said was never short of words, was finally short of words.

* * *

Tariq laughed. "You mean to tell me everyone flipped out about the monitor? Didn't anyone think of checking a pulse? I mean that is what you do around here, isn't it?"

His sarcastic nature was getting him nowhere. "Just remember, I'm the one that controls your pain meds." I sarcastically replied back. "But, no. The reason we didn't check for a pulse is because that's what we are supposed to rely on the machines for, but I tell you what. From now on, I AM checking for a pulse. I mean, what would have happened if Dr. Poole hadn't caught that defect?"

"How'd he catch it?" Tariq asked.

I shrugged. "Don't know. They shoved me and Chris out of the way and it was all he could do to hold me back."

Tariq looked up at me from his breakfast. "What?"

I looked at him. "Yeah. I wanted to rush in and safe you myself, but your Staff Sergeant knew better. I don't know what tired him more, worrying about you or trying to keep me from shoving everyone else out of the room and trying to save you myself."

"Scream's a really good guy." Tariq smiled.

"Why do you all call him 'Scream'?"

Tariq shrugged. "Don't really know. For as long as he knows, his nickname's been 'Scream'. He told me he had it as a child, but doesn't remember the details on how it came to be. I just figured it was because he spent half his time yelling at the officers and the other half yelling at Dim."

I smiled. I knew that within a couple weeks, Tariq would be discharged and head back to Georgia. I wanted to spend whatever time I could with him, but it would have to be done in the confines of a hospital.


	12. This One Time

Chris laughed as he told the story. "But I tell you it wasn't funny at the time. I wanted nothing more than to kick Dim's ass."

I wiped a tear. "Sounds like you had a whole cast of characters."

Chris smiled. "Yeah, I did, but no one beat out that one Corporal." He looked up, as though he were trying to remember something. "Shaver. Corporal Shaver. Now _THERE_ was the character of all characters. Guy had some balls on him."

"What happened?" I sipped my coffee.

"Killed himself." Chris looked down into his coffee. "The Lieutenant we were under was constantly on a power trip. One of his minions went missing. Ended up being held hostage until the son was taken care of. Lieutenant Hunter had no combat experience and he refused to listen to anyone that did, not even Captain Baron. So, we send in Shaver to fix the kid and Angel to shoot or arrest the dad. Rather than wait, Hunter sends in his dogs, killing not just the father, but Private Dana as well. By the time we got in, Shaver had shot himself in the mouth." He fell silent.

"I'm sorry." I didn't know what to say.

"Shaver would have been a good guy to have on your squad. Mouthy, but he knew his job. I mostly felt bad because I was the one that had to set him in his place to keep Hunter from arresting his ass."

"Tariq never shared a lot of this."

Chris stared hard at me. "Why would he? He knew you'd worry and none of them could do that to their families and..."

"What about your family?" I interrupted.

"What about my family?"

"Well, you're always talking about 'their families' but never your family. Why?"

Chris took a gulp of coffee and looked at me. "Because there's nothing about my family to talk about."

I looked at Chris and wondered what he meant. I decided to push the apparently sensitive issue. "But you've got family, right?"

Chris shot an intent stare in my direction. "I just said that..."

"I know what you just said, but I'm Irish and Italian. I am extremely stubborn and get what I want." I smiled.

Chris smiled back and sighed. "Shit! Tariq said that you were, but he never said how much."

"So, what of your family?"

Chris sighed. "I don't speak to my family much. When I joined the Army, my dad basically disowned me."

"Why?"

He sighed. "My dad was as anti military as you can get. He was drafted for Vietnam and lost an arm in an ambush. He hated every second of being Army and told me that if I ever joined, he'd never speak to me again." This rough man's eyes filled with tears and I wanted to comfort him. He went on. "We had a situation in Iraq and I decided to mend fences with my dad and I couldn't get up the courage to call. I just sat there and stared at the phone." He looked at me. "How can I have enough courage to face gunfire and yet I'm scared shitless when it comes to calling my dad?"

I felt sorry for him. No child should ever be disowned by parents. I looked at him. "How long have you served?"

"13 years. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a Soldier. So, towards the end of my Senior year in high school, I saw the recruiter and the June after I graduated, I was off to basic training and out of my family."

"What about your mom? Siblings?"

"Mom's an abused wife. Whatever Dad tells her to do, she does. She sides with him all the time, even if he's wrong. I had one brother, but he was killed by a drunk driver just before I shipped to Iraq. He didn't follow Dad's lead. He kept in touch and when I graduated from Basic, he was the one in the stands. Paul was my hero."

"Older?"

"Yeah by 5 years."

I could see the hurt in Chris's eyes, so I decided to change the subject. "So, tell me the funniest story you can about Tariq."

Chris wiped some tears and looked at me with a saucy grin.

"Well?" I prodded.

Chris choked on his coffee. "We're still trying to figure out how he managed to pull it off."

"What?"

He looked at me in disbelief. "He didn't tell you?"

"Nope. What did he do?" I sipped more of my coffee. "More coffee?" I asked.

"If you don't mind." He handed me his cup and rolled his head. "Anything remotely close to porn is prohibited in Iraq for varying reasons, so we're still trying to figure out how Captain Baron and Tariq pulled it off." He smiled and I handed him a full cup of coffee. "Thanks."

"Continue."

Chris would have continued if he wasn't laughing so hard. It was though the very memory of whatever their Captain and Tariq did was enough to spark a Robin Williams'esque moment. Chris wiped some tears from his eyes. "Tariq, when he got shot in the leg, had to be put on bed rest for a while to heal." Some more laughter. "During this time, he and Captain Baron became buddy buddy and Baron, shit! Baron is a character just by himself. The men love and respect him as though he were enlisted. So, anyway, Tariq has this idea. He and Dim are best friends. Bonded the first day they met and have been pretty inseparable since."

"He always spoke fondly of Dim." I smiled.

"We teased them about being lovers." Chris giggled.

"I think they said something about that at the homecoming."

Chris looked at me. "The funny thing is, the group of men that I thought would never really get to a point where they would fight for each other wound up there. Angel told me that when Riqy was hit the first time in the vest, Dim got pissed of and put one too many rounds in the man who shot Tariq. Angel said he'd never seen Dim so angry. And when a situation arose with Smoke, the guys rallied around him and they all took care of Mrs. B and her son. They're a great bunch of guys."

"I know." I smiled. "But, what did Riqy and Captain Baron do?"

"Oh, yeah." Chris smiled broadly again. "We're out on some shit mission again and we're away from base camp for about a week. What Tariq and Duke were doing at the time, don't really know. All we know is that when we come back, our tent is full of blow up dolls, inflated with helium." Chris laughed in memory. "Still don't know where they got the helium. Tariq said he just used Smoke's hot air. That led to a funny interaction of who could outwit who. I'd say Tariq won that one."

I laughed at the vision of helium filled blow up dolls in the tent. "That must have made quite an impression."

"Yeah, but the funny part is that when Dim opened the tent flap, a few escaped. I mean it was FILLED with blow up dolls. But there was one in Dim's cot, and Tariq put a note on it that said 'Tension Reliever'. Dim didn't know if he should laugh or get mad." Chris looked at me. "Did he pull stuff like that here?"

"All the time. He is a practical joker and he learned from his dad. The Nassiri's are famous for their jokes. Though, they would never joke at someone's expense. If they thought a joke would be funny, but the person would be hurt or upset, they wouldn't do it. So, for him to do that to Dim. Well, Tariq must have known that Dim wouldn't get too upset over it otherwise he'd never have done it."

"So, your turn. Tell me some of the funny stuff Mas'aud did here growing up."

I smiled. "I don't know if the impact would ever be the same. He pulled a lot of shit here."

"I told you one. It's time for you to spill." Chris sipped his coffee and smiled. I found myself attracted to the man. There was something about his Sergeant that fascinated me. I shook my head. "What?"

"Uh, nothing. Just..." I sipped my coffee.

Chris looked at me and his hazel eyes pleaded, intentionally, for the story. I couldn't help but laugh. "Now what?" he grinned.

"This one time at band camp..."

"Please tell me there's no flute involved." He sipped and even though the tone of his voice was serious, his eyes danced.

"No, Chris. No flute." I smirked. "A clarinet."

Chris choked on his coffee. "What the fuck? A clarinet?"

"Yep and it's not exactly like the movie." I sipped my coffee.

"Now you gotta spill." He leaned back in his seat.

"Well, we..." I was interrupted by a page. "Hang on. I'll be right back." I went to the reception desk. "Yeah?"

"These guys are here to see you." The young man behind the desk pointed.

I turned around and saw two men in uniform looking at me. I carefully approached them. "Can I help you gentlemen?"

"We're looking for PFC Tariq Nassiri."

"You're the MPs looking for him, right?" I stuck my chest out.

"We're not here to arrest him, ma'am, if that's what you're getting defensive about." The young man smiled. "We're just here to make sure that he is still hospitalized. That's all."

I glared at him. "He is." I saw David walking down the hall. "Dr. Cavanaugh?" I yelled.

"Yeah?" He looked at me.

"Any progress on PFC Nassiri?"

David looked at the men. "He's still under observation. I'll take you two to see him." The men nodded and David looked at me. "You coming, nurse?"

"Yes." We took the men to Tariq's room and they talked to him for about 10 minutes.

The one looked at me. "When's he due to be released?"

Dr. Cavanaugh looked at Tariq's chart. "We're still monitoring his back injury, so it should be a couple more weeks at least." He looked at the men. "Gentlemen, this young man did not ask to be hit by a car and left for dead. If your superiors want proof that he was here, half dead when he came in, I'll provide them with the proof."

"Thank you, sir." The men nodded and walked out of the room.

Tariq looked at me. "Why then, is Scream here?"

I looked at him. "Hang on." I quickly looked to insure that the men were not in earshot. I saw them walking down the hall, talking to each other. I returned and sat on the edge of Tariq's bed. "To make sure they didn't arrest you for going AWOL. Captain Baron sent him."

Tariq smiled. "Leave it to Duke."

"How did you get those blow up dolls?" I smirked.

Riqy looked at me and laughed. "That's classified information. And how did you know?"

"Chris told me."

"That shit!" Tariq laughed.

"I asked for funny stories."

"Well, that was one."

"There's more?"

Tariq looked at me. "Well, yeah. You know me."

I kissed his forehead. "Yeah, I do. And, I've got your Sergeant waiting in the break room."

"Give him my love." Tariq teased.

"You got it." I headed back. I saw Chris still sitting there, though his stare was now gazing out the window. "Sorry."

"Why didn't they arrest him?" Chris never looked back.

"Pardon?"

"The MPs that were here. They didn't arrest Tariq."

"Dr. Cavanaugh told them that he could provide proof that he's been here since the accident and that Riqy nearly died from it."

"Captain Baron will be pissed to hear that they were here." Chris turned his gaze back to me and sipped his coffee. "Anyhow, what's this about that clarinet?"

* * *

**For those who watch ER, I did steal that idea. I remember laughing at it when Michael was telling the story and when I was thinking of what Tariq could have done, that thought jumped immediately into my head. He just struck me as the kind that would do just a thing. I'm not very good at practical jokes, so they don't come across as funny when I see them written as much as I wish they would.**


	13. G I Joe?

I smiled. "It wasn't anything bad or anything."

Chris laughed. "This is Tariq. Practical joker supreme. Don't try to shit me that it wasn't a bad thing. After the blow up dolls, I'd believe he'd never do anything innocent."

"This girl had a huge crush on Tariq and she was borderline obsessive. Her crush on him made him rather uncomfortable. Wherever he was, she was there. Except like the boys showers and such, but we near expected her to be." I sipped my coffee. "During the two weeks of band camp, she was stuck on him like white is to rice."

"What instrument does he play?"

"Sax. He said it was a sexy instrument to play. He was always thinking of ways to get the girls. I think he got the idea from that cult 80's movie 'Better Off Dead' and decided that was the instrument he wanted to play."

"You?"

"Sax."

"Cause Tariq did?"

"Actually no. I started playing a year before he did. My father plays the sax and taught me how to play."

"So, what happened with this girl?" Chris's eyes playfully batted and I could tell it was out of character for him to be so joky.

"Ah, yes. Allison. Well, Riqy started to get uncomfortable with her stalking him. One night, he snuck into the girls' cabin, took her clarinet, put the mouth piece in the toilet and then back in the case."

"That shit."

"Yeah, but still. He was hoping that she would know he did it and stop stalking him."

"Did she?" Chris leaned forward.

"For the rest of band camp."

Chris looked disappointed. "I thought you were going to go with some story on how he managed to make it look like a dick or something funny."

"That was later."

Chris choked on his coffee. "You mean...?"

"Yeah. It was during the school year he did that and he got suspended for it, too."

"What did he do?"

"Took it while she was using the bathroom and put a condom on it, with the words scribbled 'Allison's first boyfriend' and put it back." I smiled.

"He was a meanie." Chris smiled back.

"He learned to be. He's so shy that he was an easy pick for the bullies. He learned to fight back at an early age."

Chris nodded his head in acknowledgement. "That's why he was able to hold his own with Smoke."

"The fact that he was Muslim didn't help either." I sipped some coffee. "The kids thought he was some sort of freak and picked endlessly on him."

"I assume you helped kick ass?"

I smiled. "He wouldn't so I did. I got a lot of suspensions and bruises for protecting that boy's ass."

"And now he protected yours from that man at the diner." Chris rolled his head.

"The Army and the war have changed him."

Chris looked at me grinning ear to ear. "Tariq must have a thing for toilets."

"Why?" I sat back.

"Well, we had porta potties at base camp and well, Dim went into take a shit, and Tariq and Smoke huddle together and you hear them laughing. They hand Angel Tariq's video camera, right? Suddenly, without warning, the two of them run head on at full speed to the porta potty Dim's in and tackle it, baring Dim's ass for the rest of the camp to see." Chris started laughing out loud. "Dim didn't speak to either of them for the rest of the night." Chris was now laughing so hard that tears formed in his eyes. "The rest of the night, guys were slapping Dim's ass and said that it was a nice ass. Jesus, it was funny."

"Sorry I missed it. By your reaction now, it had to be really funny." I laughed at the image of a bare ass in the desert.

"That's what happens when you're bored. A lot of people think we're fighting every minute of every day. The truth is that we're back at camp, bored off our asses more than we're in combat and there's too much tension and energy. Guys did some crazy shit."

"I can imagine." I looked at my watch. "I gotta head back to work, but I'd love to meet up with you for dinner or something and hear some more stories from the war."

He gave me a hug. "When's your shift over?"

"Midnight."

"See you then."

* * *

I laughed so hard. "You're kidding me? How in the world did you manage to pull that one off?"

Chris shrugged. "Still don't know. But, Hunter was pissed off. None of us liked him, really, so this was like karma or something. The funniest part was it was Dim that did it. He never really struck any of us as the practical joker type, you know?"

I smiled. "Tariq never mentioned these things in any email or letter or call."

"Of course not." Chris seemed surprised that I mentioned that. "The hardest thing is to tell your loved ones about the shit you pull when you're bored in Iraq."

"I guess that the war had more of a profound impact on Tariq than originally thought." I sighed.

"Come on. He doesn't just overnight become a practical joker. He's had to done more here than just the condom on the clarinet." His eyes stared into my very soul.

I sighed. "Well, he loved the show 'Home Improvement' and he swore he'd be like 'Tim Taylor', ya know? And he set about doing it, although he'd make _other_ people like 'Tim'. He got his older brother good one time."

"Which older brother?"

"Amir."

"Oh." Chris seemed serious now. "He spoke of his older brother. Very fondly."

"Yeah, Amir was Tariq's hero." I smiled. "Amir Nassiri was one of the nicest people anyone ever met. He had gone back to Iraq and never came home. It was shortly before the attacks that we found out he'd been murdered while in Iraq."

"Tariq told us about that. Believes it was the human shredder that we found." Chris spoke lightly.

I choked on my coffee. "You mean it really exists?"

"Yeah. We were in an abandoned house and Tariq fell through the floor and saw it. Never saw someone so shook up." Chris looked around. "It was as though it...Anyway, what did he do to Amir?"

I smiled painfully. Amir was one of my closest friends, despite being 5 years older. His death made a hole in everyone's life even 5 years after the fact. "I had a slumber party and with my parents out of town for their anniversary, Amir was the chaperone. Tariq came over because he wanted to be with Amir. So, here we are, like 13 or 14 and Amir falls asleep on the couch. Well, we're young and easily amused so Tariq takes my dad's shaving cream, puts it in Amir's hands and starts to tickle his nose. Amir wakes up with this shaving cream all over his face."

"Did he exact revenge?" Chris snorted.

"Actually, yeah. I think for about a month Tariq had a permanent marker mustache and beard." I giggled. "Amir taught Riqy everything about practical jokes."

Chris smiled. "Sounds like my brother. Paul was something else." He looked at me. "There was this one time that he locked me out of the house. I was mad at the time, but looking back at it, it was really funny. I think he kept me locked out for all of 15 minutes before letting me in and the reason he locked me out was so he could finish a surprise for me."

"What was the surprise?" I asked.

Chris smiled. "I wanted a GI Joe. Don't laugh." He said as I started smirking.

"You don't strike me as a doll type of guy." I laughed.

"GI Joe is NOT a doll." He got defensive.

"Face it. You can buy Humvees and tanks and anything else for a GI Joe. Were you able to buy GI Joe's training camp?" I teased.

Chris pursed his lips to keep from laughing. "Are you going to let me finish?"

"I see you in a different light now." I continued to laugh. "Should I go out and buy you a My Little Pony now for your GI Joe to ride around the desert on?"

"Laugh if you will, but my brother got me all sorts of GI Joe shit. And that was his surprise. He had mowed yards until he could afford this GI Joe bed sheet set. Complete with comforter and pillowcases. I was in GI Joe heaven."

I could no longer hold the laughter. "Oh man! Do you know the damage that could be done if this were to be leaked to your men?"

He gently kicked me under the table. "Guess I'm going to have quiet you then." His voice was soft enough to make me stop laughing. I looked at him smiling at me and I smiled back.


	14. Love Or Lust

I leaned across the table and took his hands in mine. "Sorry, but this is too good to keep to myself." I spoke softly.

"Stop." Chris looked at me, a seriousness in his voice and eyes.

"I won't tell anyone, Chris. I'm just..."

He stood up. "It's not that." He looked around the restaurant. "I gotta go. I'll catch up with you tomorrow." I watched as he left, wondering what I had done.

* * *

Tariq was sitting up, laughing with Scream. "I still, man, think that's the best shit, you know?" He looked up at me. "Hey, CiCi."

I kissed Tariq's forehead. "I see you're feeling better."

"Yep. Doc says I'll be out of here in a couple days. Then, Sgt. Scream and I can get caught up."

Scream looked at me. "You working today?"

"Nope. Just wanted to check on my favorite patient." I stroked Tariq's hair.

"Well, then." Scream stood up and dangled some keys. "Tariq's parent's fixed his bike and he's given me permission to take it for it's first spin since its accident." He looked at Tariq. "You sure it's okay?"

"If she wants to." Tariq shrugged.

"If I want to what?" I crossed my arms, varying my gaze from one to the other.

"Go riding with me. I may need a navigator. Someone who knows this area." Chris looked at me and he playfully batted his eyes. "Please?"

I laughed. "Alright. You sure, Riqy?"

"Yeah. You deserve it. You've given up a lot to take care of me since my accident. You need to go." I leaned down and softly kissed Tariq. "Just take care of my Sergeant."

"You got it." I smiled. I didn't want to take my eyes off of Tariq. Despite the scars from the accident, his face was still soft and wonderful to look at. I traced the scar on his cheek. "You call me on my phone if you need me and Gianni's on shift today in the ER. You ask for him if you need anything, okay?"

"Yes, nurse." Tariq smiled. "Now go and have fun."

I followed Chris to Tariq's bike. "So, this is what he spent his enlistment money on?" Chris inspected the Ducati.

"Yeah. But, he also saved a lot of money. When his uncle died, he was left a lot of money, and he bought his parents a car and put a huge chunk down on this." The red Ducati was a mainstay on Thorn Street since Tariq had bought it a few years earlier. "He loves this bike."

Chris tossed me a helmet. "I can see why." He put his on. "It's going to be nice to be on a bike again."

"You own one?" I asked through the mike in the helmet.

"Yeah." He stated matter of factly.

"What kind of bike?"

He started the bike and I swore I heard him moan in pleasure. "Hold on for the ride of your life."

I wrapped my arms around his waist. I usually placed my head on Tariq's shoulder as we rode, but I couldn't bring myself at this moment to place my head on Chris's shoulders. I made note of the strength that his arms possessed as he maneuvered the bike down the parking ramp. I put the visor down as we headed out to the street. The sun was shining brightly and the weather was hot. Once we hit the street, Chris rode that bike for its worth. He tore on to the freeway, driving as recklessly safe as Tariq. I held my breath as he wove in and out of the traffic. I wrapped my arms tighter around his waist. I was used to Tariq's reckless driving, but was having a hard time getting comfortable with Chris's.

He didn't say anything as he drove, but every once in a while, he would say something like "Yeah baby!" I wanted to say something, but didn't want to distract him. He pulled off the freeway and took the corner too fast, nearly wiping us out, but he gained perfect control of the red speed monster. He pulled into McDonald's and took off his helmet. He looked back at me as I removed my helmet. "Damn! I had forgotten how much fucking speed these have." His smile was indicative of the fun he had.

I smiled back. "You've ridden a Ducati before, haven't you?" I shook my hair out.

"Yeah. I crashed mine just before I went to Iraq." He got off the bike, unaware of the women staring at him.

"You have a Ducati?"

"I did. A yellow one." He stared at me. "I named it GI Joe." He winked.

I laughed. "You know, you never said why you left so abruptly last night."

"I was tired."

"So why did you tell me to stop?" I followed him in.

"What?"

"You said 'Stop.' rather softly and I've no idea what that meant. You said it had nothing to do with me teasing you about..."

"It wasn't." He focused his attention on the menu. "What do you want to eat?"

I was getting frustrated with this Sergeant. He was getting excruciatingly evasive. I swore I was going to get it out of him one way or another.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, playfully toying with his shirt. "Come on, Chrisy boy. You can tell me." I softly baby talked to him.

He stiffened up and grabbed my hands. "What do you want to eat?" He was matter of fact as he loosened my grip.

"Nothing." I stormed out.

I was sitting on the bike when he came out. He put his soda on the ground and sat next to me. "Do you even begin to understand the power you have over men?"

"Power over men?" I was shocked. "I have no power over men whatsoever."

Chris looked at me and smiled. "But, I think there are a few men, myself included, that would argue to the contrary."

"In order to have power over men, you have to be sexy and I couldn't pull sexy off of a pole." I huffed.

"Well, I'd say you're doing a fucking good job of being sexy." He looked intently at me. "Being sexy isn't about wearing the shortest skirt with the lowest shirt. It's not about having the biggest breasts or whatever. It's about the attitude and how you affect men." He put his helmet on. "Ready?"

Again, the Sergeant frustrated me, but I put my helmet on and slid up behind him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and placed my head on his shoulder, taking in his scent. I found myself enjoying the ride, with the sun shining on my back and the breeze slightly blowing. I must have been lost in another world because I woke up when I heard Chris yell "SHIT!" and the bike hitting the ground.

Chris sat on the curb and shook his head. "How the fu..."

"It wasn't your fault, Chris." I soothed. "That pothole just came out of nowhere. It saw a bike coming and went 'I haven't been up in a couple days. Gotta make sure the sun is shining. Last thing I remember is there being snow.'"

Chris smiled. "But the bike."

"It's just a scratch. We can get it painted. There's no major damage." I patted his knee. "Let's just head to home."

He picked up the bike and looked over it. He restarted it. "Sounds good. Let's go."

The ride back was silent, broken only by laughter. We made it to my apartment and I invited Chris up for some coffee, which he readily accepted. We made my way into my apartment and he looked around. "Are you sure we're in a woman's apartment?"

"Yeah. Why?" I closed the door.

"Somehow I expected flowers and lace and silk everywhere." He placed the helmet on my couch.

"That's the bedroom." I put my helmet next to his.

"Don't tease." he grinned.

"Seriously. I had to have something in this place totally girlie and if not the bedroom, than where?" I went into the kitchen and started the coffee. "I really should look at your arm."

"My arm?" Chris was startled.

"Yeah. You got some scrapes when we slid out." I faced him.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm okay, really." His voice was a little faulty.

"You okay?"

He sighed. "I'm fine. I'm just...my arm's fine."

"I should look at it anyhow, to make sure."

"I've had worse in Iraq and trust me this is no big deal." He backed away from me and sat on my couch.

"Chris, first of all, I'm a nurse and..."

"So that would explain you working at the hospital." He grinned.

"Yes, it would." I laughed back. "Second of all, you seem a little on edge. What's wrong?" I took his arm to inspect the scrapes.

He leaned down. "I don't want stitches."

"Why not?"

"I'm scared of needles." He weakly whispered.

Still holding his arm, I looked at him. "You have got to be kidding me. You? The famous 'Sgt. Scream' who has no fears is _actually_ afraid of needles." I couldn't help but laugh. "First, you tell me you wanted a doll. Sorry, a GI Joe and now you're telling me you're scared of needles. You are an enigma."

His face never moved. "I've been told." I looked up at him and I felt my heart racing. His face was dangerously close to mine. He leaned in closer, pressing his lips against mine. I dropped his arm and returned his kiss. As the kiss began to intensify, he pulled back. "Fuck." He looked at me. "I'm sorry. I..."

"It's okay. I kissed back." I gathered myself. "But, you're not going to need stitches. Just a bit of antiseptic will do." I excused myself as I walked back to my room. I hid my face in my hands. Had I just really kissed Tariq's Sergeant and just how far would it have gone if he hadn't pulled away? I began to wonder if it had gone further, would I have tried to stop it? Would he? I grabbed the antiseptic and cotton balls and headed back to the living room. "Okay, here we go." I watched him tense up as I put some antiseptic on his scratch. "It's okay, Chris, really. You'll be fine."

"As long as I don't need stitches and face needles." He smirked in pain as the antiseptic hit the scratch.

"I still can't get over you being scared of needles." I gently rubbed the antiseptic in his arm and put a band-aid over it. "You're this amazingly strong and brave guy and you can't face needles."

He looked at me. "Yeah. Funny how that works." There was now a nervousness in his voice and movements that wasn't present before.

I sat next to him. "It's okay, Chris. It was just a kiss."

"What would have happened if it wasn't?" He seemed to read my mind.

"But, it wasn't."

"What if..."

"No more 'what ifs', Chris. It didn't go past a kiss." I didn't admit that, despite my love for Tariq, I was lusting after his Sergeant and was wanting it to go beyond the kiss.

Chris, however, sensed this. He softly stroked my face. "Tariq loves you."

"I love him too." I shivered at his touch.

"But on the other hand..." His voice dropped off.


	15. Confess Or Stitches?

I put my hand over Chris's and looked at him. I knew that I didn't love him. Every part of me said that it was straight lust and he knew and felt the lust too. "Chris, I..."

"I know. Lust is a strange thing, isn't it?" He leaned his forehead against mine. I could smell the spearmint on his breath. He leaned in and began kissing me again. I felt my body give in and for one moment, the lust for his Sergeant overtook the love for Tariq.

* * *

I sat up in bed, feeling guilty as I looked at Chris lying next to me, sleeping. I wondered what type of girlfriend I was to give into the lust. I put my robe on and headed out to the kitchen and made me a cup of tea. The sun was just starting to rise and while the night before had been amazing, I wanted the new day to come and start over and forget what had happened the night before. I wondered if Chris and I would now act uncomfortable around each other, making Tariq suspicious. I started to cry.

"It wasn't that bad was it?" Chris's voice startled me.

I looked at him. "No. It wasn't. It's just..."

"Tariq?"

"Yeah." I stared out my balcony window.

"Yeah." Chris sighed.

"How do we act now? I mean, we start acting different, he'll suspect something."

"I know." He sighed again, only heavier. "But, I've got shit on him that woul..." He stopped.

"You've what?" I looked at him.

Chris stepped back. "Uh, nothing." He gulped.

"What did he do?"

"I don't know." Chris seemed out of character to me. He was nervous and anxious.

"Okay." I looked at him, lips pursed. "If you don't tell me, I'll have to give you stitches."

"No. I..."

"Stitches."

"Her name was Tiana and she was an embedded journalist and..."

"WHEN?" I screamed.

"Just before we came home." He ducked as I threw my mug. "Didn't we just do the same?"

"Yes and he'll be as mad as I am." I sat down. "How long was she embedded with you?"

"A couple months. It was while you and Tariq were claiming your love for each other. What I know was that, like last night, it was a moment of lust and didn't happen but one time. He's regretted it since."

"That's why..."

"That's why he's been super nice to you." Chris smiled. "So, if he finds out about your moment of lust, you can point out his."

"How do you know about it, Chris?" I looked up.

"About his sleeping with Tiana?"

"Yeah."

He pulled himself up and sat on my counter. "They weren't...well, they sorta fell asleep in the back of the Humvee and fortunately for him, I was the one that discovered them. Trust me, I gave him an earful. Shortly afterwards, she had her story and left. She says that it wasn't because of that night, but Tariq and I both knew." Chris rolled his head, something that I noticed that he always did before saying something with depth. "What we need to decide now is how to deal with last night."

I sighed. "I know." I put my elbows on my knee and planted my chin in my palms, looking up at Chris. "How do I ask him about that knowing that I'd have to talk about last night?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to." He tilted his head and looked at me.

"What?" I bolted straight up.

"If you talk to Tariq about Tiana, thus revealing what we did last night, you may get answers you're not prepared to hear. I'm not saying don't tell him."

"Then what are you saying?"

"Bide your time. Wait for the right opportunity." He jumped off. "You'll know when you need to talk to him and get the answers you want. Right now, I don't think you're ready for them." He headed down the hall for a shower.

"You are so exasperating!" I yelled at him.

He turned around and looked at me. "You're not ready to handle the answers you seek."

"What are you now? The Dali Llama?"

He laughed. "No." He sighed and leaned against the wall. "Look, I've been in a spot very similar to yours. When I pushed the issue too early and got the answers I didn't want to hear because I wasn't ready for them, well, it's why I'm still single. You will know when you can handle the answers." He went into the bathroom and started the shower.

I sat down, even more puzzled. He was not just frustrating, but he was also very enigmatic. There were times I swore he was speaking in riddles that only the Sphinx knew the answer to. He never really talked about his life, though he'd mentioned his parents and brother. But, what did he mean by he was in a spot similar to mine? What point was he trying to drive home? I laid down on the couch, thinking about the answers and the questions that preceded them.

* * *

I was back working in the ER when Tariq and Chris came in. "Glad to see you're finally heading to Benning." I kissed Tariq.

Tariq sighed. "Yeah, it is." He looked around and appeared nervous.

"It's alright, Riqy. We've been separated before. We'll do this" I soothed.

"It's not that." He looked at me.

I glanced at Chris, knowing he said something to Tariq about our night. Chris looked at me. "I'll be in the waiting room. Good luck, Riqy." He patted Tariq's shoulder and left.

"Can we go into the break room real quick?"

"Sure, Riqy. What's up?" I opened the door and sat on the couch.

Riqy sat next to me. "I was talking to Scream and he said something." I sighed because I knew it was coming. Chris had told Tariq about our one night stand. "To tell the truth, I'm a little nervous." He sighed again. "The past few months here in the hospital have...I've never actually seen you work...and...well, the whole thing is..." He leaned his head back and looked at me. "I never realised the depth of what I feel to you until now. I mean, I knew I loved you and everything, but I didn't realise until..."

The door burst open. "Ciara, you're needed." Dr. Dvorsak closed the door behind him.

"I gotta go. After work, we'll talk?"

"Marry me." He suddenly said.

"Marry you?" I stopped in my tracks.

"Yes. I can't and don't want to go to Benning alone. I need you by my side. Marry me."

I looked in his eyes. "Under one condition."

"What's that?"

"Kiss me."

"Gladly." He gave me a soft kiss and got something out of his pocket. He slipped my mother's engagement ring on my finger. "Brought your parents luck, right?" He smiled.


	16. RIP

I tried to work my best despite my excitement. I watched as Chris and Tariq left and felt a twinge of guilt. How would I ever be able to tell Tariq and look Chris in the eye without seeing that night?

A couple hours later, I sat at the table in the break room, trying to enjoy the small bit of time I had for lunch when Gianni came in. "I heard the news."

"What news?"

"You and Riqy. It's all over the ER. Melanie saw the ring and put two and two together. Then she told Jayme, who told Carol, who told Heather, who told Tom, who told Jay, who told Mark, who told me." Gianni sat next to me.

"What is this? Grade school?" I laughed.

"Well, yeah." He grinned. "Congrats to you. I'd congratulate Riqy, but I saw him leave with his Sergeant. Where's he going?"

"Benning."

Gianni sighed. "Ah. I see."

I looked up at him. "What's that mean?"

"What?" He looked at me wide eyed.

"That whole 'I know better than you' sigh of 'I see.', that's what." I snapped.

"You don't know?"

"Don't know what?" I was losing patience.

"Tariq didn't tell you?"

"Well, obviously not if I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"His application to RIP's been approved. Was approved while he was in Iraq. His Sergeant that was here is a Ranger and convinced Tariq to put in the application. Well, the way things worked out, Chris is an instructor there and when Tariq missed his first shot, he came out here to find Riqy. Apparently the Captain they served under in Iraq is also a Ranger and now CO of RIP."

"So that's how they knew..."

"No. They called his parents."

"No secret spying or..."

"Nope. None of that." Gianni smiled.

"Well, why didn't Chris just say that then?"

"What?"

I sipped my coffee. "I asked Chris how he found out Tariq was in the hospital and he said something like it was classified information."

"Apparently, Chris Silas has a sense of humor that few see." Gianni smiled. He looked at me. "I have to say this...and I'm ONLY telling you...if you weren't with Riqy, Chris is the type of guy I'd like to see you with. He's apparently very protective."

"Where have you heard all this?"

"Places." He looked up as he heard his named paged. "Chat to you later, sis?" He left the room, leaving me wondering how he knew all the information and I didn't.

* * *

Yasmina sighed with delight. "We knew it would be coming, but didn't expect it so soon." She hugged me tightly. "Of course you'll honor our Muslim wedding traditions." It was more of a command rather than a question, but I smiled.

"Yes, Yasmina. I will honor both Baptist and Muslim wedding traditions. I promise." I was surprised and how fast word got around. I knew Tariq wouldn't have said anything. He seemed too distracted when he asked and I didn't, but here we were, nearing a week after he asked and it seemed to be all over Detroit. We gathered up our purses as we headed out to see Tariq fly off to Fort Benning with his Sergeant.

I held Tariq's hand and placed my head on his shoulder. I wondered, briefly, if he and I had been moving too fast with things, but realised that our whole lives were spent together already and growing up, we both knew it would be the other we'd marry. A part of me didn't want to let him go that day. I wanted to hold on to him with all my might and not let the Army have him back. Especially the Rangers. I knew all about the Rangers. I studied up on them after the situation in Somalia went down. It was my freshman thesis.

I had my fears and doubts of the Rangers. I knew Tariq could handle it, but could I? Could I handle sleeping in the middle of the night, hearing the phone ring and watch Tariq just up and leave for 6 months and not have an idea of where he was? Would I be able to handle the pressure of being a Ranger's wife? I felt tears and fear form and then anger because I had to hear from Gianni.

At the airport, Tariq and I stood alone. He held me tight and he sensed something. "What's wrong?" He stroked my hair.

I looked up at him. "Why didn't you tell me you're going to Benning to be a Ranger?"

"I knew how you felt about Rangers and I wanted to tell you in just the right way, at just the right time and it never was. So, who told you?"

"Gianni."

"Figured."

"How'd he know?"

"When you were out with Scream that day, I told him. He was the first person to know. I couldn't even tell my own parents." He softly laughed. "Here I'm going to go train to be one of the Army's bravest and I can't even tell the people I love the most I'm going to do it."

"I don't want you to go."

"I promise I'll be fine." He cooed.

"It's not the Rangers. I feel like I just got you back and now...now, you're leaving again." I felt the tears. "I just want a normal life with you."

He placed his forehead on mine. "You're marrying a Soldier. This is normal." I knew he was right, as much as I wished he wasn't. A normal life for the Soldier isn't the normal life for the rest of the world. Normal for the Soldier is going off to combat operations at a moment's notice. Normal for the Soldier is deployments.

Now, I really began to wonder if I could handle the 'normality' of a being Soldier's wife.

* * *

The next couple of weeks were trying to once again get used to Tariq not being around. It's funny how much of a routine that we found ourselves in, even during his hospital stay.

"You good?" Dr. Lawrence asked as I cleaned up an exam room.

"Fine. Thank you." I never looked at him. I couldn't explain the chaos inside of wondering if I could be the military spouse Tariq would need me to be, especially if he was a Ranger. One minute I was; the next, I wasn't sure. I didn't want to talk to anyone about it, but when I got home that evening, Yasmina was waiting for me. "Yasmina. What a surprise!" I hugged her.

"You must tell me." Her eyes pleaded.

"Tell you what?" I opened the door and invited her in for some coffee.

"I know you. You have questions lurking. You must tell me so we can answer them." She sat on my couch. I put the coffee on and sighed. Was I so transparent, despite all efforts to not be? "It is okay. We all have questions about marriage. You can not solve them unless you talk about them."

I sat next to her. "I was just wondering if I'd ever be the spouse Riqy needs. I mean, we've got two completely different backgrounds and..."

"That has never bothered you before."

"No and it's not that, really. It's trying to figure out how to incorporate each religion into the ceremony as accurately as possible."

"I'll help. You know that." She tilted her head. "What else?"

I sighed even heavier. "When he told me he was becoming a Ranger, I froze. It's hard enough to date and marry a Soldier when he's deployed on a normal basis, but Rangers? They could get the call in the middle of the night, while we're sleeping. I could wake up and Tariq could be gone and not come home for a year and I hadn't the chance to properly say farewell." I got up for the coffee.

"You and my Riqy love each other."

"Is love enough?"

"If you let it." I handed her her cup of coffee. "I know it will not be easy for you. But, know that no matter where Yusef and I are, we'll be there for you."

"But is the love I have for Riqy enough or..."

"You are searching for something that you will not find an answer to." I looked at her. She was beginning to sound like Chris. "If you want love to be enough, than whatever comes along, love can conquer. Lose no faith in love, sweet, and love will lose no faith in you."

I smiled. Yasmina was always a wealth of knowledge and calmness. We drank our coffee and talked the rest of the night.


	17. The New Intern And A RIP Call

Coffee always seemed to be my constant companion. I found myself drinking more coffee as Riqy's absence grew. "It's better than alcohol." I joke with my brother.

"Well, that's true, but it has the same effect and you know it." He smiled as he sipped his.

"Well, I will certainly keep that in mind, dear kettle." I laughed. It was becoming rare for my younger brother and I to be close to the same shifts and whenever we managed to be close to the same shift, we always took coffee breaks together if we could.

"Hear from Tariq?" He leaned back.

"He's doing well. I got a letter from him the other day. I guess he's pretty stoked about RIP. His captain, Captain Baron, from Iraq is the Commanding Officer and Sergeant Silas is his instructor."

"Wonder how that's working out." Gianni stood up. "More?" Before I could answer, he took my cup and refilled it. "I mean, we know how close those two are."

"True." I sipped the hot coffee, nearly burning my tongue. "But, they also have a professional relationship that, according to both men, has Tariq running more ragged than the others. But, that's not all. Apparently, there's someone else that Silas knows in Riqy's platoon."

Gianni looked up. "Anyone we know?"

I smiled. "Avery King."

"Isn't that..."

"Angel." I cut Gianni off. "We met him at the homecoming. Apparently, because of his shooting skills, they've got him in RIP and will send him to Sniper school once he's done with RIP."

"I vaguely remember him." Gianni scratched his head. "He's the really soft spoken one, isn't he?"

"Yeah, I think so." I looked at the clock. "Well, time to get back." I stood up and started to leave, but faced Gianni again. "Do you remember Gideon Green?"

"Yeah. Skinny white boy who thought he was, how'd he say? 'Da bomb." Gianni smiled.

"Yeah. He's in RIP." I closed the door behind me.

I felt Gianni grab my arm. "Gangly Leg Green is not just in the Army, but becoming a Ranger?" He was just as shocked as I was when I read the letter from Riqy.

I laughed. "I know. Hard to believe, isn't it? What do you think he's got to prove?"

"I can't say for sure." Gianni shrugged "Here's what I know. There are patients waiting to see me." He sighed. "Sometimes I wish I been a paramedic and didn't have to see this side of it."

"It's not too late." I sang.

"Yeah it is. I've already spent thousands of dollars on med school. Do you think Mam and Pap would appreciate me becoming a paramedic after all that money?" He smiled. I knew Gianni well enough to know that he wanted always to be a doctor and only spoke of being a paramedic when the patients got too much.

I smiled. "Spare time?"

Gianni laughed as he grabbed a chart. "Spare time? Remind me again what that is?"

Taking him literally, a young intern smiled. "It's time you have when you're not at work."

Gianni looked at the young lady. "Ah. Again, when am I not at work?" He smiled. "Dr. Gianni Byrne. You are?"

"Heather Lachey. I'm a second year." She smiled at him.

"You want ER rounds?" He motioned her to follow the two of us.

"I've always wanted to be an ER doctor."

"Can't help you there. I'm third year." Gianni flashed his trademark smile.

The young lady seemed to feel her spirits fall. "Oh."

I hit Gianni's shoulder. "I think you qualify, don't you, to take on a new intern and show them the ropes?"

Gianni seemed to catch what I was saying and smiled. "I will certainly look into it." His eyes never left the young lady.

I smiled as Gianni and the young lady left. I headed to the staff lounge when our receptionist caught me. "You have a call."

"From?" I questioned.

"Tariq." She smiled.

"Thanks. I'll take it in the lounge." I practically ran into the lounge. "Hey! I was just thinking about you."

"Really? You must have known I was thinking about you too." I could almost see his smile. "I wanted to call to talk to you."

"About?"

"Anything. I miss your voice. All we get around here are a bunch of hardened Rangers yelling at us."

"How's Green?"

"He's fine. He's the one they pick on the most though." I could hear a tone in Tariq's voice I wasn't used to hearing and it bothered me.

"You sure you okay?" I pressed.

"Just a little tired and hungry." He responded almost distantly.

"Why'd you call?"

"I wanted to hear your voice."

"I know. I want to hear yours too, Riqy, but you sound distant. Like there's a barrier up and I don't know what to do."

"I'm sorry. I know how it must be for you. But trust me. You're all I think of to get me through all this. If I can get the Ranger tab, it'll be a better life for us."

"I don't want a better life, Riqy. You know that. All I want is you." I could see him smiling on the other end of the line.

"I know. But, I want to be able to provide you with a good life. Hey, listen. They're calling us for muster right now. I'll call next shot I get, okay?"

"Okay. Riqy?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

I hung up the phone, still bothered by Riqy's tone of voice. Had he discovered my one night stand with his Staff Sergeant? Did he think I finally found out about his? I sat heavy on the couch and covered my face with my hands.

"You alright?" I heard Gianni's voice.

"Yeah."

"Well that was unenthusiastic and totally unbelievable." He sat next to me. "Talk to me, Sis."

"I found out something about Riqy and I want to talk to him about it, but I'm not upset or mad by it because I made the same mistake. But how do I talk to him about his mistake when I'm guilty of the same one?"

"But you're not mad at him?"

I looked over at my younger brother. "No. What he did was a mistake and I made it too, so how can I be mad at him for it?"

"What did you do?" Gianni's voice was now serious.

"Gianni, don't..." I pleaded.

But Gianni didn't listen. "Ciara. What did you do?"

"I slept with his Staff Sergeant." I softly replied.

"Shit." Gianni whispered. "Tariq sleep with him too?"

I could tell Gianni was trying to make me laugh but I only rolled my eyes. "No. It was an embedded reporter named Tiana and I only found out about that by threatening Chris with stitches." I looked over at Gianni. "Don't ask."

"Seems to me you have to talk to him. Did you sleep with his Sergeant before or after he asked you to marry him?"

"Before."

"You still want to marry Riqy?"

I shot up. "How DARE you Gianni!"

"How dare I what? Think you may have second thoughts?"

"I'm not having any second thoughts. For as long as I can remember I wanted to marry Riqy. It's now more complicated than I wanted it to be." I sighed. "I can easily forgive him for Tiana, but can he forgive me for Chris?"

"If you're both guilty of the same crime, you should both forgive each other."

"But she was a fembed and he is his Staff Sergeant." I stood up. "That complicates far beyond the both of us being guilty of the same crime."

"But does it or are you allowing it to?" Gianni opened the door. "Which is it, Sis?" I watched as he left, angry that he was as enigmatic as everyone else.


	18. The RIP Homecoming

It's funny how time flies when you don't pay any attention to it. Seems like Riqy had just left when he came home. I wanted to be there when he graduated from RIP, but everything seemed to work against it. "Never mind." Tariq told me. "It'll be better..._MUCH better_...if we celebrate my graduation in Detroit." and I settled for his answer.

It's even funnier how things you plan out don't always.

Somehow Tariq found out about my sleeping with his Sergeant. I expected a fight. A HUGE fight. Instead, Riqy sat on my couch and looked up at me. "I'd love nothing more to be mad at you, but there was this fembed..."

"Chris told me. And he only told me after I threatened him with stitches." I smiled.

Riqy smiled back. "So, what do we do?"

I stopped smiling. "What do you mean 'What do we do?'"

He softly stroked my face. "Do we yell and argue or go straight to the make up sex?" His eyes danced.

"What was she like?"

"As like what?"

"Was she pretty? Was she smart? Was she worth the chance of getting caught?" I ran my fingers softly in his hair and he looked at me. "What?"

"Is this your way of asking 'Is she a better fuck than me?', right?"

I smiled. "No."

"Yes." Riqy laughed. He gave me a soft kiss. "She was pretty. I don't know, but I seem to have a weakness for blue eyed lassies." He winked. "She was able to hold her own in the smarts department, but Dim constantly reminded her that he was smarter than everyone else." He then heaved a sigh. "At the time, I, uh...I know that this will sound like an excuse, but, uh, I was just..."

"Horny?" I laughed.

His soft laugh followed mine. "Pretty much and you can only get so much from your hand and...What?" He laughed harder at the look of disgust I gave him. "You don't think that's a reality of war? Jesus, babe. We used to...God, there was this one guy who used to tie string to his dick and tell us he was going to go walk the dog. Besides, I happen to know you have a vibrator for..."

I playfully slapped his shoulder. "That's for us to use together." I felt the blush rising in my cheeks.

"Right. Together as physically or together as when you dream about me?" His eyes danced and sparkled.

"Okay...enough about my vibrator!" I laughed.

"Was she worth it?" He looked deep in my eyes. "No. I didn't know how to even tell you and Scream and I...I'm lucky he's the one that caught us...talked about it. I regret it." He looked at me. "Even though we weren't technically a couple."

I felt ashamed for my actions and Riqy knew that. He wiped a couple tears away. "I'm sorry, Riqy. I am..."

"I know." He gently kissed me. "We got our first argument and cheating stories over and done with now. Now, we move on." He picked me up. "So, where is that viberator?"

* * *

I laid on Tariq's chest, carefully tracing a scar left over from his accident. "You healed well."

He softly stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. "Only because I had a great nurse."

I shifted to where I could look him in the eyes. "Well, when you first came in, we didn't know if you'd live."

He smiled at me as he pulled me down closer to him. "I have a lot to live for." He softly said before his lips met mine.

* * *

Yasmina smiled. "It will be quite difficult to make a ceremony both Muslim and Baptist."

"Well, I like the idea of the scarf over the heads, but to expect me to not look at Tariq except in a mirror, not going to happen." I laughed.

"We will find a way to balance out our traditions and the Nassiri's traditions." My mom assured.

Yasmina nodded. "Of course we will." She patted my knee. "Most of our relatives and friends do not understand why we are allowing Tariq to marry someone who isn't Muslim. Until Yusef assures them that it is love, not religion, that binds you and Riqy together."

Yasmina always made sense, even when she spoke in riddles. I smiled at her. "How'd you get to be so lovely?"

"Yusef made me lovely." She blushed. Yusef and Yasmina had been married nearly 35 years and the thought of Yusef still made Yasmina smile and blush. If anyone asked if someone could still be as deeply in love many years after their wedding, I would have pointed them to the Nassiri's.


End file.
